Fancy Pants
by sammy921
Summary: The wild west. A place of rugged beauty and daring adventures. A place where romance is free to roam and love and bravery are as vast as the endless Texas sky.
1. The contract

Lady Maka Albarn was not one to be easily intimidated.

She often prided herself as being rather brave and clever.

Unfortunately, as she stepped down from her hired carriage her heart fluttered treacherously, like a little bird caught in her ribcage.

She swallowed convulsively as she gazed down the darkening drive to the looming mansion beyond.

Raising her chin high and squaring her small shoulders she mustered her waning courage and marched rather un-lady like up the gravel drive, kicking small pebbles in annoyance.

She passed through the imposing ebony gates of iron and stone.

The name above it proclaiming it to be Ragnarok estates.

Maka huffed as she stomped past the manicured lawns and delicate gardens leading to the house.

She stopped in front of the door and primly smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress, hoping that she looked professional, or at least presentable.

She knocked briskly on the door, three quick raps of the gleaming knocker.

The knocker felt heavy in her hands, as if it was made of real silver.

"What a pompas man he must be," Maka grumbled to no one but the night.

_It's a wonder no one has swindled the expensive ornament off its hinges._

The door swung silently open, revealing a dour looking butler.

"May I help you?" he intoned, a look of pure displeasure clearly written in the pinched lines of his jowls.

"I am here to see Lord Ragnarok. I must speak with him."

"Does the lady have an appointment?" The butler asked, obviously not too keen to give her passage.

"It is a most important business matter. I'm quite certain your Lord will see me if you tell him that it is Lady Albarn calling."

The Butler nodded curtly, moving his hulking frame from the doorway to allow her to pass easily.

"Wait here, I shall inform my master of your request for an audience."

Maka stood alone in the hallway, swallowed up by the shear vastness of the house.

She gazed at the lavish rugs, paintings and furniture exquisitely arrayed around her.

She felt slightly ill at the blatant wealth around her.

Maka and her late father Lord Spirit Albarn had not been poor by any means, but compared to the grand splendor of the house she was standing in it made her feel rather humbled.

"What have you gotten me into papa," she whispered to herself.

She felt overwhelmed and so very alone.

"This way is you please," came the dull voice of the butler, startling Maka from her thoughts.

"The master will see you now."

Maka followed the grim butler up a large flight of stairs.

Silent as the grave, the only sound the swishing of her skirts as they passed through more halls and rooms filled with lavish treasures.

Maka couldn't believe this big house was for only one person.

This man obviously likes to flaunt his wealth.

After winding through the confusing maze of hallways and empty corridors the butler stopped before two expansive doors.

"The master awaits you inside." He mumbled.

He promptly left down the hallway, leaving her alone once again.

"Right," Maka sighed as she mentally prepared herself to walk through the doors.

She schooled the annoyed frown off her face and tried to replace it with her most charming smile.

No point in being uncivili about the situation.

_Be nice, be charming, smile. _

She walked into what appeared to be a rather large study.

It was dimly lit, the crackle from the fireplace the only light visible.

A wide, deep mahogany table stood proudly in the middles of the room.

Piles of paperwork and empty ink bottles littered it's shiny top, and sitting just behind it silently watching her with darkend eyes was it's master.

"Lady Albarn, how very nice to see you." Came his booming voice.

He stood up and bowed to her from behind the desk and she curtsies primly in return.

He was the most impressive specimen Maka had ever seen.

His hulking form towering high above her own diminutive stature.

He had wide shoulders, sharp cheek bones and piercing black eyes that bore into her.

He might have even been considered handsome by some, but his mouth was a twisted snarl when he smiled, and his eyes held no warmth.

She fought the urge to turn tail and flee at the sight of him, his size and manner so imposing.

Maka held her head high though, her father had not raised a coward.

"Lord Ragnarok, I presum," she said stiffy, trying to keep her fake smile handy.

"Please, just call me Ragnarok. There's no need for formalities here, not when we are to be wed soon my sweet," he said with a vicious smile that made Maka's heart stop cold.

"Actually Lor- I mean Ragnarok, that's what I came to speak to you about."

"Yes, indeed you must have many questions about the wedding and the arrangements. All in due time though."

His voice dripping falsely sweet, like bitter honey.

He learned forward, his dark hair shadowing his eyes.

"You are more lovely than I had hoped."

He leaned across his desk towards her, rather too close. Maka cringed inwardly at his words and took a quick step back, but continued to smile.

_ Don't lose your control Maka_, she thought desperately, as his eyes daringly ravished her.

He was being far too familiar with her and her temper was quickly rising.

"I was hoping to discuss the marriage contract with you my Lord," Maka asked, trying to keep her voice steady and as civil as possible.

"What business does a woman have discussing a marriage contract?" Ragnarok asked, a look of displeasure creeping into his smile.

Maka bristled.

"I believe it's my business because it's my wedding," she spat.

Ragnarok frowned at her, all pleasantries dropped.

"I don't believe I like your tone Mary Albarn. My future wife should not speak to me so."

"First of all, my name is not Mary, it's Maka. You don't even know my first name." Her voice was rising dangerously.

"Secondly, I am here to ask that you drop the marriage contract."

Her patients was slipping fast.

Lord Ragnarok snorted. "Drop the marriage contract? And why, pray tell would I do that?"

"Because you and I do not know each other, let alone love one another."

Ragnarok threw his head back and barked a vicious laugh.

The sound chilled Maka to her bones.

"Silly woman, love had nothing to do with the contract we made. Your father was drowning in gambling deabts, he had no choice but to practically throw you at me. I settled his debts in exchange for your hand."

"Liar!" Her voice quivered with raw emotion.

Her papa would never sell her off, like a common possession.

"I'm afraid it's true." Ragnarok chuckled darkly.

He seemed to be enjoying her suffering.

"Here's the contract if you do not believe me."

He pulled a rolled parchment from his desk drawer.

Maka snatched it from him, her eyes quickly scanning the lines.

Maka's heart dropped at the sight. She'd recognize that sloppy hand writing anywhere, there was no way that it had been forged.

Her papa, truly had signed her away. And for what? To annul a debt that no longer mattered?

At the heart of it all, she would never know why he did it.

He was gone now, passing so suddenly only a month ago.

Now she was grieving, alone, and left to clean up his mess.

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she held them back.

She wouldn't give Ragnarok the benifit of seeing them.

She tore the contract angrily down the middle, the sound of ripping paper filling the quiet room like a gunshot.

She raised her head then, her green eyes flashing defiantly at the dark man behind the desk.

Once again he laughed at her.

"Are you addled in the head my sweet? That was mearly a copy you destroyed, and even if it had been the real one, no matter how many pieces you tear it into it is still just as binding."

"My father is dead Lord Ragnarok, his half of the contract should be voided out of respect." She said steadily, trying to take control of the rapidly deteriorating situation.

"And why would I do that? Yes, your father is dead, but that just makes the deal even sweeter. Now that he's gone not only do I get his lovely daughter, but in marring I also inherit your father's entire estate and belongings as well."

"You bastard!" Her composure was finally breaking.

"Do not speak to me in that foul manner ever again!" Lord Ragnarok yelled back, his face turning dark with furry.

"You may not be my wife yet, but I swear to you that I will bite that vile tongue of yours and teach you some respect! I will enjoy the taste of your tears as I break you. You are mine now!"

Maka whirled and ran for the door, wanting so badly to escape his words.

Ragnarok was quicker though, his long legs brought him in front of the door before she had the chance to escape. His large frame effectively blocked the exit.

"I demand that you let me pass!" Maka hissed under her breath.

Ragnarok smiled deviously, his dark eyes flashing as he leaned close to her face.

Maka could feel his hot breathed on her cheek and it made her skin crawl.

"You smell so sweet, I could eat you up." Ragnorck whispered close to her ear.

"Please let me go, Maka pleaded."

"What if I was to take you now hmm? You have no one, no father, family or friends who would miss you. It'd be easy just to make you mine right now."

He laughed as he grabbed her wrist.

Maka brought her knee up swiftly, hitting him square in the breeches.

Ragnarok grunted and staggered forward, the air leaving him as he cursed.

He held firmly onto Maka's wrist though not giving her the chance to flee.

He recovered much too quickly, and Maka saw the error of her actions in his face as he stood to his full height.

His face was livid, and Maka for the first time in her life was truly scared.

Ragnarok reared back and brought his large hand down, slapping her hard across the face.

Maka trembled, her face stinging from the blow.

"The contract is voided if you take me by force. I am not 18 yet." She whispered, her voice hushed by fear.

"Aren't you a clever one," He scoffed, some of the anger leaving his face.

He stared at her hard, for a long terse moment.

"You're free to go." he said at last, releasing her wrist and stepping away from the door.

Maka did not hesitate, she rushed past him as quickly as her skirts would allow.

She had no idea where she was heading in the maze like house, but she had to find the exit.

"Like it or not you and I will be married within three months, right after your 18th birthday as stated in the contract. I will come for you then my vile wench, and I will make you regret your actions."

His voice followed her down the last flight of stairs, menacing. A promise.

With an audible bang she flew out the front door, leaving the house deadly silent in her wake.

Ragnarok chuckled roughly as he heard the door slam.

The dour butler promptly materialized at his masters side.

"It is not my place to question you master, but may I ask why you chose to marry that disagreeable girl?"

"You are correct, it is not you place to ask questions," Ragnarok barked.

His temper still unbalanced.

The butler nodded and withdrew, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

_ Oh I have my reasons, _he thought to himself, a mad smile upon his face.

"I have my reasons."


	2. Uncle

Maka stormed into her house like the devil himself was on her heels.

She slammed the polished oak door shut firmly behind her and wasted no time in locking it up tight.

Her heart rate gradually slowed as she leaned heavily against the door.

The thrumming in her head subsided a fraction as she sucked in the much need air her lungs had been lacking.

Safe in her own house, the paralyzing fear she had felt began to dissipate, leaving red hot anger in its wake.

_The nerve of that man!_ _I'd rather die that marry that monster._

_There's got to be a way out of this contract. _

Maka paced back and forth for awhile raking her brain for a solution.

_I could always run away,_ she thought absently.

_No, there's nowhere in England I could hide that he wouldn't find me. _

His wealth and influence was vast. It was a despairing thought.

_ The law would be on his side as well, the moment I'm found I'd be dragged off to the alter in chains._

Feeling drained and hopeless Maka sunk down to the floor and buried her face into the old Persian rug that adorned it.

It was the only furniture left in the house, she had sold everything trying to make ends meet.

She couldn't bear to sell the rug though.

She lay there on her beloved rug, unmoving for a time as all her thoughts and memories came flooding back.

She inhaled the familiar scent of the rug, it smelled like her papa.

Of spilled gin and spicey cigar smoke.

A single tear fell at the thought of ber papa, Lord Ragnarok's words buzzing in the back of her mind.

Her papa was all that she had, now that he was gone she really was on her own.

She was all alone in this empty house.

Even the servants were all gone, not being able to pay their wages.

It all seemed so hopeless.

There was a quick knock on the door, rousing her from her melancholy thoughts.

_Who could that be at this hour?_

What if it's lord Ragnorck?

Maka's heart trembled at the very thought.

She put her ear to the door and listened, praying it wasn't him.

"Who's there?" she finally asked, calling forth her courage.

"It's the post ma'am." Came a muffled voice.

Curiosity getting the best of her, she threw open the door.

"Why's the post come so late?" She inquired as she took the letter the man poffered.

"It was sent first class ma'am," the post man offered in way of explanation.

"Thank you." Maka said taking the letter and dismissing him.

The post officer left and Maka tore open the letter eagerly, not having the slightest idea who would be writing to her.

The light from the moon was dim, but she could make out the handwriting easily enough.

_Forsaken ranch. Dripping springs Tx_.

_To the last of my brothers kin, I wanted to say that I am sorry for your loss. My brother was stubborn as a mule and had the sense of cotton stuck between his ears, but he was still my only kin. We hadn't spoken in many years for our own reasons, but hearing of his passing has filled me with much regret. I wish I had patched things up with him before he kicked the bucket, but there ain't no point dwelling on it now. The last time we had spoke though he mentioned having a child, Maka I think was his name? Maka you are my only family left, and I want to do right by you for you father's sake. I'd like for you to come live with me here on the ranch. We have plenty of room for you. I don't take in freeloaders though, so if you want to be a part of this family you'll have to help out and pull your own weight. Not a bad deal though eh? I understand that you have lived a comfy life in England and may not want to leave, but I think you and me should be a family. It's what your father would have wanted. Please write me back on your decision. I look forward to hearing from you nephew. -Sincerely your uncle Frank. P.s we have no use for women on this ranch, so if you have a mistress or a sweetheart I highly suggest you leave her in England where she belongs._

Maka blinked very slowly as if the letter she held would dissapear otherwise.

She blinked again, but the letter was still there.

"What kind of a mad dream is this?"

She marveled as she clutched the letter tighter.

She had an uncle.

An uncle who wanted her to come live with him.

An uncle who lives in Texas no less.

Maka's heart lept with joy at the very idea of having family who wanted her.

Only problem was, her uncle thought she was a male.

Her name was an unusual one, she could understand how he thought it a boy's name.

Re-reading the words_ "we have no place here for women,_" instantly crushed her hopes.

He didn't really want her.

She was so close to escaping all her problems she could almost taste the freedom.

"My gender is once again my downfall. If only I were male, then I could decide my own future." She said bitterly to her dim reflection mirrored in the window.

_ I'm not even a pretty woman either,_ she thought as she frowned dissaprovingly at herself.

Maka had never thought herself a great beauty, her bust rather lacking, her eyes being too green and too round, and her gangly lean form being very unappealing to the opposite sex.

I might as well have been born a boy she thought with a huff, I certainly don't look very feminine.

Then in a flash of inspiration, the answer to all her problems struck her.

She knew what she had to do.

Rushing up the stairs of her quiet house, she ran into her father's abandoned study.

It was the only room left that had not suffered the purging of furniture and finery.

she couldn't bear to sell her papa's things, it was all she had left of him.

Maka desperately rustled through the drawers of her father's desk for a quill and blank parchment.

Not stopping to ponder her actions, she hastily scribbled away, her eagerness making her hands shake slightly.

_Dear, uncle Frank. Thank you for writing to me so soon. I was quite surprised at learning about your existence. I find it hard to believe that I have a real flesh and blood uncle. My father had always told me that he had lost his brother a long time ago, I am quite pleased to find you well and alive. It is most gracious of you to open your home up to me, a starnger. I'm very thankful of your kindness. I am happy to accept your offer. I admit that my knowledge of Texas ranching is not vast, but I am willing to learn. I promise that I will be of great help on your ranch. I will be on the first ship out of London tomorrow. I look forward to meeting you at last uncle. Sincerely, your nephew Maka._

Maka hesitated only for a moment before she signed the word nephew.

She didn't like the thought of lying to her new uncle, but the fear of becoming Mrs. Ragnarok within three months was too strong not to.

Scanning her letter once then twice Maka deemed it acceptable and stuffed it in an envelope, complete with wax seal.

She would send it first thing tomorrow morning.

It would reach her uncle in Texas, and she would follow shortly behind it once she got her affairs in order.

That being done Maka walked quickly out the back door into the crisp night.

She went to the stable, not fearing the dark building as it came into veiw.

It had once been a familiar sight to her, back when it was lively and filled with horses and workers.

Growing up she had spent many a happy days in the stables.

Now they lay empty, uninhabited by beast or man for months now.

The horses had been the first thing she had sold.

It had broken her heart, but she knew that she could no longer feed them.

They deserved better homes than what she could give.

The stable was now errily silent as she approached, no welcoming whinnies to be heard.

The stable was a dusty, spider infested place that she rarely ventured to these days.

Maka ducted under a small door; it smelled of stale air, old hay and leather around her.

She tip toed in, not wanting to disturb the silence of the vast place; a room that was now haunted by memories of things long gone.

Maka struck a match and lit a lantern that hung on the wall, illuminating the small tack room brightly.

In the far corner she spied an abandoned trunk, left behind by a stable hand.

She rummaged through the chest, silently thanking the person who had forgotten it.

Inside she found a sturdy pair of boots, some trousers, shirts, and a cap.

Maka eyed them dubiously, wondering how on earth men's clothes went on.

Shrugging her shoulders, she began to unbuttoned her dress.

Maka shivered as her petty coat slipped away, leaving her skin bare and chilled by the night air.

She caught her reflecting in a mirror that was leaned against the wall in a corner.

She turned to the mirror and frowned at her reflection.

She wasn't naive about her gender qualities, or rather the lack of, but she couldn't deny the soft curves that reflected back in the mirror.

She returned to the chest where she found to her delight a length of soft white linen.

She hastily wrapped it tightly around her bosom, binding her chest flatter.

Satisfied that it would stay in place, she quickly dawned the rest of her male garments.

She fumbled with the buttons of the shirt for a moment, but was other wise quite please with how easy the clothes went on.

Much easier than stocking, corsets, and lacings.

Pulling the cap on her head Maka stood back and and examined herself critically.

For a moment she stood there, shocked at her appearance.

The clothes must have belonged to a young stable lad because they fit almost perfectly, they were only a little baggy in certain places, but they'd do nicely.

She smiled at the mirror, pleased at her new image.

Her face was still a little too soft and feminine, but other wise she could easily pass as a young boy.

Except for her hair.

Maka gazed at her long golden hair despairingly.

Men in London were wearing their hair longer these days, often pulled back in a smart pony tail, but hers flowed down below her waist in great sheets of gold.

She would have to cut it off.

Maka had never been a vain woman, but the thought of cutting all her hair off made her cringe.

It was the one feminine quality she had.

Steeling herself she went to the trunk and pulled out a pair of rusty shears.

She held the shears that had once trimmed the beautiful manes of her father's horses in her steady hands.

Maka held her breath as she brought the shears up to her head and snipped.

She looked down to see a waterfall of hair float to the floor.

The thought of Ragnarok's vicious laughter pushed her as she continued to cut away.

Stepping in front of the mirror once again Maka gazed at the final result.

A gangly youth stared boldly back at her.

A large purple bruise was forming on the side of her face, a small reminder why she was fleeing her country and only home for a far off land.

He would never touch her again.

Her hair was now shoulder length, still a little longer than was common, but it would do nicely if she tied it back, and she really couldn't bare to cut it any shorter.

_ Surely men in Texas wore their hair long as well?_

Maka stared at the stranger in the mirror for a long moment, a wide smile slowly creeping across her face.

Her uncle wanted a nephew, and bloody hell she was going to give him one.

"Here I come Texas." She whispered to the night air.


	3. English Dandy

Frank Stein Albarn, often known in the region as just Stein, sat at his desk with his booted feet propped up on the polished oak.

He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he looked over an open letter.

He studied it, a mad sort of smile on his face.

There was a heavy nock on his study door.

"Come in, I know it's you Soul, no need to knock" Stein said as he looked up from the letter.

"How'd you know it was me boss?" Asked a gravely voice as the door opened wide, revealing a somber looking young man.

"I heard you dragging your feet all the way down the hall, no one else clomps around like you do."

Stein grinned as he cut his eyes back to the letter he was holding.

Soul shrugged his shoulders and grunted in non committal reply.

"You wanted to see me about somthin' sir?" Soul hedged, as he took his hat off and smacked it against his leg, a small cloud of dust forming.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for Oklahoma, I got some business to look after."

"I don't see what that's got to do with me boss." Soul said evenly as he leaned nonchalant against the door frame.

Stein looked the cowboy straight in the eye. "I'm leaving you in charge boy."

Soul straightened up so fast he almost tripped over his own long legs.

"What?!" His face showed his disbelief, his bored demeanor vanishing.

"You ain't joshin' me now are ya boss?"

Stein shook his head, a small smile on his face. "I'm being completely serious."

Soul grimaced, looking unsure.

"Not that I'm complaining sir, but why me? I thought you, uh.. kinda hated me."

"It's true that you're always grumpy, don't get along well with anyone and sonetimes don't use the common sense God gave ya, but I see the potential in you Evans."

Soul didn't know if he was meant to take his bosses words as compliment or insult.

"Uh, thanks boss?" Soul mumbled.

"You've been a mystery Mr. Evans, ever since the day you came to this ranch, but over the years I've watched you grow and learn. I know you love Forsaken as much as I do. It's just as much your home as it is mine and I know that you will take right proper care of it."

"I am honored boss. I'll do you proud, and I swear I'll work hard and keep everything running smooth while you're gone."

"I trust that you will." Stein chuckled at the young man's heartfelt enthusiasm.

"If you do a right proper job of it, I'll make it a permanent promotion. You'll be Forsaken's new forman when I return."

Wh- what sir?" Soul asked, his eyes going wide.

"You got cotter in your ears boy?" Stein asked, his voice amused.

"I said you're going to be my new forman."

"Thank you sir, I promise you won't regret it." He said at last, lost for words.

Soul had always had the notion that he'd be a forman one day, but he had no idea that it'd happen this fast.

He had gone from cow puncher to ranch forman in the blink of an eye.

Wait until he told Blackstar!

It'd wipe that smug smile right off the bastards face once he found out he was his new boss.

Soul was practically grinning at the thought.

"Of course... I need you to do me a small favor in return." Stein said, his voice a little too ominous.

Soul didn't like the sound of that, but he nodded his head, not wanting to piss off Stein.

"Sure thing boss, what ya need?"

"Did you know that I have a brother?"

"Eh? A brother?" Soul asked a little confused, his mind trying to picture a world with two Steins in it. One was bad enough, he sure didn't want to picture a second in the mix.

"I didn't know you had any kin, you've never mentioned him before."

He was a little curious despite himself, Stein's origins were as murky as his own.

"Well we haven't been on speaking terms sinse we were young bucks." Stein looked almost regretful.

"I find it hard to believe you used to be young boss" Soul said with a snort.

"Don't let the gray hair fool ya boy." Stein grinned, his eyes faraway on some distant memory.

"My brother, sadly, has recently passed away."

"Uh, I'm sorry to hear that sir." Soul mumbled, feeling uncomfortable.

"Which brings me to my favor."

_What kind of a favor included a dead brother?_

Stein handed the letter he had been holding over the desk.

Soul took the poffered letter carefully in his rough hands, the paper feeling flimsy and light.

He read the letter once, then once again before he looked up at his boss, one pale eyebrow raised in question.

"You have an English nephew coming to live here?"

"He's the last of my kin. I think it's fitting that we be together."

"No offense sir, but is that really the best decision? I mean he sounds like a spoiled English dandy. We have no place for folk like that here, he wouldn't last a week on Forsaken boss."

A wicked smile crept across Stein's face, his eyes shining behing his spectacles with a touch of old wisdom and a heap of madness.

Soul had learned a long time ago to be wary when his boss showed teeth like that.

"I know the English boy wouldn't last here. That's why I'm leaving him under your care while I'm gone." Stein said it so breazily, as if babysitting spoiled kids was an every day job.

"I want you to show him the ropes around the place, get his feet wet a bit. He's probably never done a hard days labor in his life, so I want you to whip him into shape, work him hard and make a fine man out of him. The kind of man that would be useful to Forsaken."

"You can't be serious boss? If I'm going to be running Forsaken why you're away I can't have some dumb English coxcomb clutchin' at my shirt tail all day."

Stein's face darkend slightly. "Let's get one thing straight, that dumb English coxcomb is my only living reletive. Secondly, you won't be running anything if I come back and I find out that you ain't even capable of teaching a single thing to that English green horn. I'm expecting you to have him acting like a regular cowboy by the time I get back, is that understood?"

"Yes sir, understood." Soul nodded, relenting to his unfair fate.

It was impossible to argue with Stein when he put his mind to it.

"My nephew will be here in a weeks time. I've paid for his train ticket here from the ship. You'll take the buck wagon to the train station and pick him up at noon on the 5th. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir." You can count on me boss."

"Good. Now get out." Stein grunted as he turned his attention to the stack of neglected paperwork sitting on his desk.

Soul tipped his hat and ducted out into the hallway, escaping his boss's piercing gaze.

An unexpected promotion, a green English dandy, and a heap of new responsibilities.

It was a lot to take in.

He needed some time to mull over his thoughts.

Creeping out the back door of the main house he headed for the barn, knowing it would be quiet there.

The barn was a great place to collect your thoughts. The familiar smells of the barn wafted out as he opened the big red double doors.

A chorus of happy neighs greeted him as he entered, every horse eagerly leaning their heads over the stall doors.

They stared enthusiastically at him, blowing soft air from their muzzles, eyes bright with anticipation.

"Don't give me those looks." He grumbled affectionately as he pat the neck of the nearest horse.

"Yall have already had breakfast."

The horses continued to stare at him, brown eyes misty and gentle.

"Oh alright, maybe just a nibble."

He couldn't help but relent, he really was a sucker for those big eyes.

He scratched one of the greedy beasts behind the ears.

"Just this once though." He grabbed a bucket of sweet grain from the adjacent feed room. "We don't need any fat nags on the ranch." He warned as he walked down the isle portioning out food into buckets. "And don't you go telling anyone either, or the boss will skin my hide sure as day."

The horses, with food delivered to their stalls promptly ignored Soul as they happily munched.

_Ingrates_.

He leaned against the far wall and closed his eyes; the sounds of soft horse snuffles and the far off bellows of cattle touching his ears.

He inhaled deeply, his eyes still shut.

The sweet smell of hay and the musky sent of horse coforted him in way.

If he really concentrated he could almost pick out the soft scent of the wildflowers blooming down in the lower pastures.

All the sounds and smells around him were familiar and comforting.

This ranch had been his home for almost his whole life and he loved it with an uncanny passion.

And now, depending on his skills, and the handling of a wayward nephew everything would change.

He would be running Forsaken.

That though made his heart constrict with fear and pride, all in the same beat.

He wouldn't allow let the fear creep in though.

He was made for this job, and he'd do his damned best to be the kind of man Forsaken needed.

"I swear I'll do right by you." He whispered reverently to his surroundings.

"And I promise I won't let no English kid mess it all up."

Nothing was going to stop him from achieving his dreams.


	4. Courtesy

**Brunswick Docks. **

**Liverpool, England.**

The air was misty and thick with the taste of salt.

Seagulls floated lazily on the breeze calling out to one another, filling the early morning with their noisey cries.

The sound of the waves gently lapping at the docks was almost drowned out by the hustle and commotion of the people above it.

The docks were alive and teaming as people rushed to and fro.

In the middle of the fray, unnoticed and undetected was a small figure, clad in boys clothing.

Maka sat silently on a crate far above the hustle and bustle on the board walk.

She was watching intently, her green eyes keen, taking in the sights of the people swirling around her and the sea that beckoned beyound.

She took special care to observed the men that passed by.

The male species was an odd one and deserved to be studie in depth.

She noticed how they spoke differently.

How their voices were lower, and more throaty than her own.

They spoke on different subjects than what women normally did and they often spoke very crudely, but more honestly.

She took note of how they walked.

Women were taught to walk gracefully and often swayed or sashayed, where as men walked with more purpose, longer strides and no grace at all.

Maka watched in fascination as pedestrians and seamen alike milled about.

She tried to take in everything, no detail too small to over look.

_I wonder if men walk and talk differently in Texas? _

Texas seemed so very far off and foreign to her.

The idea of such a place was rather a massive one.

When uncertain about anything in life Maka had always turned to books for answers.

So as she sat watching the passing people she nervously clutched a book tightly under her arm.

She had scraped together the last of her money to buy a few books and an extra set of male clothing. The books were worth every penny though.

One was a heavy tomb of the local flora and fauna. The other book was filled with stories of courageous cowboys and their impossible tales.

The book being her only life-line, made her desperately hope that the information in the book was accurate.

Texas was no longer going to be a fairytale land to her.

Maka turned her gaze expectantly to the misty atlantic, as if she could reach across it and see Texas on the other side.

The sea was vast and so very blue, stretching all the way to the horizon and beyond.

The sight of it filled Maka's heart with both dread and excitement.

The ocean whistled softly, promising grand adventures and far off lands.

Soon she would be leaving everything that she had ever known or held as familiar.

"Last call for America!" The harbor master shouted, rousing Maka from her fancies.

She jumped down quickly from her perch and made her way through the maddening crowd.

She took extra special care to walk properly like the other men around her.

She swung her legs out in long strides, reveling in the sense of freedom the breeches gave her.

Men's clothing was definitely more comfortable and less restricting than womens.

_I could get used to this_.

She hummed happily as she walked up to the harbor masters small shanty.

She waited her turn in line as people gathered to buy their passage.

She hunched her shoulders a bit, trying to imitate the slouch of the man standing in front of her. _Piece of cake,_ she thought, happy with her stance.

Pretending to be a man was rather fun.

"Next!" yelled the harbor master, indicating Maka's turn.

Maka walked bravely up to the front of the shanty and stood to her full height, which wasn't all that impressive, but it made her feel better none the less.

"Where to?" The harbor master asked, not looking up from the ledger he was writing in.

"One passage to America, boston." Maka said, trying to keep her voice low and even.

It came out more high pitched than she had intended though and winced at the sound.

The harbor master looked up at her voice, his face grim.

He was a salty and weather beating old man with a great white beard and cunning eyes.

_ He knows I'm a girl._

_Maka started to sweat under her collar._

_She hadn't stepped one foot out of England yet and her false identity had been broken._

The old sea man eyed her warrily.

"Are you old enough to sail on yer own lad?" The harbor master asked her at last.

"Ye don't even look old enough to shave lad, where's your family at?" He asked, looking around the docks for anyone.

"I'm sailing to be with my family in America." Maka answered, relief instantly flooding her, her secret still intact.

"Oh, well that's acceptable then." The harbor master said with a nod. "Just making sure ye weren't tryin to run away for a life on the sea like most young lads do. Name please?" He asked taking his quill and ledger out.

"La-, er, uh.. Lord Maka Albarn." She cursed herself quietly, nearly slipping up on the title of her gender.

She would have to work on that.

She was no longer a petite coat clad, destitute, sad little orphan.

She had to believe that she was now brave young Lord Maka on his way to Texas.

"Maka Albarn." The harbor master said as he wrote her name down.

"How do you plan on paying for your passage Mr. Albarn?"

Maka had no money to speak of, the clothes on her back and the few personal items in her throw sack was all that she had left to her name.

None the less Maka smiled widely as she dug around in her sack.

She produced a bulky, cloth wrapped item from her sack and dumped it unceremoniously onto the counter with a loud thud.

The harbor master eyed the mysterious package warrily, as he picked it up.

"Blimey, your paying with this?" The harbor master breathed in disbelief.

"Courtesy of Lord Ragnarok." Maka said with a wicked smile.

There, unwrapped and held gently in the harbor masters hand, was a heavy door knocker made entirely of silver.


	5. Town

It was a beautiful day.

The weather was very mild for this time of the year.

The breeze came from the south today, warming everything it touched.

It stirred the tall prairie grass that grew as far as the eyes could see, making it ripple and dance like waves on the ocean.

The warm air tousled Soul's white hair, as he stood gazing at the rolling land.

It tickled the nape of his neck and riled up his already unsightly hair, but he wasn't paying much mind to the wind.

It was a beautiful day, but his mood couldn't be fouler.

He stared off into the distance, wishing he was out riding the open plains instead of stuck going to town.

_He hated town._

The whispering, the blatant staring.

He should be used to it by now.

All those judgmental eyes unnerved him though.

He couldn't help the way he looked.

With one last grumpy huff Soul tore his eyes away from the pastures and headed to the barn to hitch up the wagon.

No point in putting it off any longer.

He quickly led two older bay geldings out and busied himself with the harness.

One of the gelding sighed heavily and cocked it's head to the side, gently nudging Soul on the arm.

"I know boy, I don't feel like going to town eaither." Soul said, giving the horse a sympathetic pat on the neck.

Today was the day he had to pick up Stein's nephew from the train station.

Stein had left a few days prior on his journey and left Soul with little knowledge of what to expect.

His parting words had been, "Good luck and don't goof it up."

Soul couldn't help wonder what kind of person this English kid was going to be.

He was looking forward to meeting him just as much as kissing a rattlesnake.

"How on earth did I get saddled with this job?" He moaned to the horse as he expertly buckled the harness under its belly.

"This English kid will be nothing but a sticker-burr in my side, or worse, the reason I get kicked off Forsaken. How does Stein expect me to turn an English brat into a cow hand in only three months time?"

Ranching was a way if life, not something that could just be taught.

_This kid is going to ruin everything._

Soul was so wrapped up in his despairing thoughts that he neglected to hear the approaching sound of stomping boots.

"Howdy chip kicker!" Bellowed a voice, making Soul wince and the horses prance from the shear volume of it.

"Shut your trap Black Star! Your scarin' the horses idiot."

Black Star shambled over, a large grin on his face.

"I ain't the only one yelling." He corrected.

Soul gave him a dour look as he calmed the horses.

Black Star ignored the look and leaned casually against the wagon.

"Soo, 'boss'." Black Star drawled, saying the last word with a smirk. "Off to play nurse maid?"

Soul shot him a dirty look.

"Yeah." he grumbled as he bent down to hitch the team to the buck wagon.

"I should be out helpin' yall move the herd, not baby sittin' our bosses spoilt nephew."

"Yep." Black Star said nodding sagely. "It sucks to be you."

Soul frowned, but said no more as he climbed up into the wagon.

"No slacking while I'm gone."

"Wouldn't dream of it... _boss_."

The way Black Star cackled gave Souk the feeling that he would more than likely find Black Star snoozing under a tree later.

"Don't make me fire you." Soul warned half heartedly. "I'd miss your sorry ass."

Black Star let out a guffaw at that.

"Don't be sappy Evans. You and me both know you ain't got the balls."

Soul cracked a grin at his long time friend.

He might be loud and obnoxious, but Black Star was one of the best hands on the ranch and the closest thing he had to a brother.

Forsaken would surely be too quiet without his presents.

"Welp I better get to the chores." Blackstar said as he turned to leave. "Lord knows the new forman ain't gunna do it."

Soul grunted and threw is wide brimmed Stenson at Black Star in response.

Black Star smartly dodged it and trotted off laughing.

"You better get outta here nursmaid or you'll be late for the train." Black Star shouted over his shoulder as he rounded the barn and dipped out of sight.

Soul frowned at his hat where it now lay in the dirt.

_Damn Black Star, making me lose my hat. _

He didn't feel much like fetching it from where it now rested.

If he left his hat off people would stare more, his unusual hair color would be more apparent.

Whatever. He wasn't going to let it bother him.

He'd make Black Star clean the dust and grime off his hat later as punishment.

With a flick of his wrist Soul slapped the reigns across the geldings backs.

They lurched forward then settled into a slow rambling walk.

He didn't mind the slow pace as the horses plodded on, he wasn't too anxious to meet his boss's new family member.

Leaning back in the seat and propping his boots up he tried to relax as the land slowly rolled past.

It would take a good half an hour before he reached the little town of Red Gulch.

There was plenty of time before the noon train reached the station.

"No sense in rushin'." Soul mumbled to the horses as he lazily ran his fingers threw his hair.

"I'm in no rush to meet this English kid."


	6. Endless Sky

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of new experiences for Maka.

She found that once over the unavoidable sea sickness she rather loved the ocean.

She spent many a hour recklessly hanging over the deck railing, watching as the ship broke through the green sea foam waves.

She liked to stare down into the deep inky dpths, secretly day dreaming of mermaids and monsters, and sunken treasures lost to time.

Sometimes she would spy a fish or a sea dwelling bird, but other wise the whole horizon had been empty; nothing but blue mist, endless sky and dark water.

At night, without the crampt buildings of London to obstructing the veiw of the the sky, the celestial bodies came to life.

It was truly a breathtaking sight to behold.

Trillions upon trillions of stars shone in the night sky.

They shimmered in the nippy night air, their lights dancing on the surface of the sea.

The moon rose lazily into the night, always warm, yet morose looking in the vastness.

Maka made it a habit to sleep out on the deck every night, so she could stare into the unfathomable heavens.

She always drifted into a peaceful slumber, lulled by the rocking of the sea.

It was a wonderful way to live and she was sad to leave it, but the far off sight of land one morning and the captains call of "America ho!" stirred her blood.

Her first glimpse of American from the ship had been blocked by the heavy fog that rolled across the water in wispy tendrils.

She leaned far over the bow of the ship, desperately trying to see her new homeland.

Her heart hammering in her ears, competition with the crashing of the waves.

As the ship got closer to the harbor the fog broke long enough for her to catch a glimpse of her surroundings.

The land was vast and heavily wooded, surrounded on three sides by water.

In the distance were gently rolling green hills, dotted with sheep and small towns.

In a way it was almost like England, but still very different.

It had a slightly odd and foreign feel about it.

It was a beautiful country though.

She hadn't even stepped foot upon it, yet she was already falling in love with the land.

"I'm almost home." Maka whispered in awe.

* * *

After disembarking from the boat, Maka had clamored aboard the iron beast they called a train.

It had come thundering into the station, chugging out thick black smoke that smelled of coal and fire.

It was a huge clanking thing that demanded the attention of all who stood near it.

"Thank you uncle Stein." Maka sighed as she picked up the ticket that her uncle had kindly paid for in advance.

He had even sent her a little pouch with odd looking coins and notes in it.

American currency no doubt. He truly had thought of everything.

Once her ticket was aquired, and eager to see the inside of the train she trotted up to it as fast as her legs would go, an action that in the past had been hindered by bulky skirts.

The inside of the train had been large and spacious, with rows upon rows of seats for weary travelers to rest on.

Maka took her seat by the window so she could look out at the passing land.

The train ride from the coast to the small town outside of her uncle's ranch would take a total of three days.

She hunkered down into her seat, prepared for the long trek ahead.

She read her book of Texas tales to pass the time.

The stories were wonderful and exciting, but she wondered how much of what she read was really true or not.

The thought of a cowboy named Pacos Bill roping a twister was a very absurd one.

Time seemed to go very slowly compared to the world that sped by outside of the train.

Little towns, full of oddly dressed people sped by one after another.

The further south they went the more unfamiliar Maka felt with her surroundings.

She watched in fascination as the scenery changed rapidly as the train came closer to her destination.

The green hills and tall trees had vanished, replaced by lush, wide open ranges and a blue sky that seemed to go on forever.

Even the people Maka noticed had begun to change in the way they dressed and spoke.

_Howdy_, was becoming an increasingly popular word.

Maka decided that she very much liked the way people here spoke, it sounded pleasant and foreign.

Maybe I'll learn to talk like them, she thought as she listened to the train passengers lively chatter.

Maka kept to herself on the train, trying not to draw attention to herself.

The one time she had spoken everyone in the train car had turned to stare at her.

She desperately hoped it was because of her English accent and not that she had blown her male disguise.

She had sunk down into her seat and kept quiet the rest of the trip.

_What a strange new land._

* * *

Her train had rolled into the station of Gooding Texas at exactly 12:00pm noon.

The train was right on time, no fuss or delay.

Maka had grabbed her meager luggage and bolted out the door, excited to finally meet her uncle.

_I wonder if he looks like papa? _

She gazed at the passing people around the train platform, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Slowly the crowd of people began to thin out and disperse, all smiling and happy as they greeted their loved ones who had been waiting for them.

Maka waited, and she waited some more.

_Maybe he's running a bit late? I'm sure he'll be here soon._

She would remain optimistic. So she waited.

An hour passed, then two slipped by and still she waited.

Finally she could not wait any longer.

"I guess he forgot that he was supposed to pick me up today? He MUST be related to papa to have such a bad memory."

Well, she wouldn't let her uncle's mistake get her down.

She was a big girl who could take care of herself. She had just traveled across an ocean and half a new country by herself. She could definitely find her way across one town.

_ If my uncle will not come to me then I will simply go to him,_ Maka thought stubbornly as she stepped off the platform and headed towards the ticket counter.

"Excuse me sir?" Maka asked the man behind the counter.

She was careful to keep her voice steady and low.

"Well howdy young un'. What can I do fer ya?" Asked the leathery old man with a smile.

"I'm looking for the Forsaken ranch?" Maka asked hoping the ticket master could point her in the right direction.

"Well now, with that funny accent I reckon your ol' Stein's nephew come down from England?"

Maka nodded eagerly, choosing to ignoring the blight comment about her accent.

"You know my uncle?"

The old man cackled in response.

"Do I know Stein?! This here is a small town, hell everyone here knows Stein. Fuck I wish I didn't know the bastard most days." The old man said with a laugh.

Maka tried not to cringe at his language.

The longer she masqueraded as a man, the more she noticed how men often cursed more profusely when women weren't around to hear.

"So do you know what direction the Forsaken ranch is?"

"O' course I know, Forsaken's only the biggest ranch for a thousand miles."

"Would you be so kind as to point me in the right direction?" Maka asked trying very hard not to sound annoyed. She felt this man was silently making fun of her.

"Yep, our town only has six streets in it, you need to take the main street out of town then turn left and go about five miles. You'll eventually run into the barbwire fence, follow that fence for a while longer til you run into a big ol' gate. That's Forsaken's gate. It'll have their brand FS on it."

Utterly confused Maka cocked her head to the side and regarded the man seriously.

"Is there maybe a place I could hire a horse and carriage around?"

She was wanting her time with this man to end rather soon.

The man once again proceeded to laugh jovial in Maka's face, spewing saliva and almost choking in his mirth.

Maka ground her teeth in frustration as the man continued to laugh.

Were Texans prone to fits of uncalled for laughter or was it just her presence that seemed to make them all laugh so outlandishly?

She had the sinking feeling that it was her big English mouth.

"Boy you sure are a long ways from home." The man finally said after is burst of laughter had passed. "Round here if you need to get places you either walk, or take a nag, we ain't got no fancy English carriages."

"Well then, I'll walk to Forsaken." Maka said simply, nodding her head determinedly.

Not wanting to talk to the old man any longer, she quickly thanked the man and left in the general direction that seemed most likely to take her out of town.

_ I wonder if all Texans give such horrible directions? _

She walked through the small town, looking for the "main road."

People in the shop windows and passerbyers on the street would stop to stare at her as she passed.

Some would smile and wave, while others only gawked or pointed.

_They must not get many new people here._

She hunched her shoulders under the onslaught or scrutiny.

The main road, as it turned out was no more than a little dirt road, no wider than two wagon lengths.

She took the road, widening her strides, wanting to leave the town as soon as possible.

She felt so many eyes watching her, and it was an unnerving feeling.

Thankfully the town was indeed small and she breathed a great sigh of relief as she made it to the outskirts.

With the buildings dwindling in the distance and the feeling of being watched quickly fading she began to enjoy her surrounds to the fullest.

She now walked down a smaller road made by the the wheels of wagons digging ruts into the earth.

The air was crisp, but warm and light feeling on Maka's skin.

_ It must be spring here for them_, Maka thought joyously as she gazed at the greening grassland.

She spied rabbits scurrying to and fro, frolicking in the verdant vegetation.

The sounds of strange birds singing their sweet songs all around her.

Here and there, hidden among the tall grass were small pockets of spring time flowers, blooming profusely.

"My, how lovely!"

Maka stooped to stick her nose in an especially bright blue patch of flowers.

The scent was light, but sweet. She sneezed delicately at the sensation.

Turning back to the road she couldn't help but smile to herself as she continued onwards towards Forsaken.

Or at least she hoped it was the right way...

The land gently rolled in some spots and widened to great expanses in others.

She passed clear streams and small pockets of odd looking trees.

It was a peaceful place, this Texas.

For the first time since her papa had passed she truly felt free.

She laughed heavenward to the clear, blue, endless sky.

_I think I'm really going to like it here._

_I just hope my uncle likes me being here too..._


	7. A rocky start

"Shit. I'm so late."

Soul curses as he gauges the high position of the sun over head.

Half past 1:00 by the looks of it.

_How had it gotten so late? _

Sure he had doddle a bit, not looking forward to meeting his new ward, or the thought of going into town, but damn it that sun was rising fast.

_ My first fucking day taking care of the kid and I'm already doing a lousy job. _

A mental picture of Stein ghosted across his thoughts.

He looked pissed.

Soul shuddered a bit at the thought.

"Better hurry boys." Soul called out to the horses, urging them into a faster trot.

The wagon creaked underneath as it rolled down the road towards the little hell hole they called a town.

About halfway there, the horses slowed unexpectedly, their ears pricking forward with curiosity.

"Whacha see boys?" Soul asked as he leaned over the wagon side, straining to see what was up ahead.

Something small was weaving sporadically across the road up ahead.

"What the hell?" Soul asked the horses.

It kinda looked like a person.

A very drunk person judging by the weaving.

As the wagon got closer to the dancing shape, it definitely resembled a human, a very small and disoriented looking human, but a human none the less.

"Oh god, please don't let that be him." Soul pleaded, his crimson eyes going heavenward.

His pleading must have fallen on deaf ears though, because as the person got closer it became apparent to Soul that he was totally fucked.

The kid weaving in the road was most definitely English.

He was the most English looking dandy he had ever had the displeasure of seeing.

His boots were polished and very undoubtedly english.

His cap, his trousers, fuck even his hair was long and English looking.

He was built small and wiry.

His cheek bones were delicate looking and there was no trace of sun exposure on that pale face.

_God, was the kid actually skipping?_

Soul stared in utter disbelief.

The kid dipped and swayed and paid no mind to him.

He most definitely was skipping.

He was undoubtedly the most feminine looking young man Soul had laid eyes on.

The kid, who was obviously in his own little world hadn't noticed Soul watching him yet.

He weaved from one side of the road to the other, stopping periodically to bend over and pick wildflowers.

Soul cursed inwardly when he saw the pile of flowers held tightly in the kids arms.

Soul sighed in despair.

What the hell was Stein thinking, leaving this kid in my care?

There's no way I can turn him into a cowboy, let alone a true grit one.

Soul's pride and the sought-after position of forman was hanging perilously on the line.

He wouldn't let this English twit ruin his plans.

He wasn't ready to give up so easily.

Soul was often described as being stubborn, but thought of it more as having a fortifying resolve.

He was going to turn this kid into a man, even if it was the last thing he did.

"Hey kid." Soul barked out as the kid drew closer.

The kid, unaware of the brooding cowboy who was watching him walked right past the wagon as if it wasn't even there and continue picking flowers as he went.

"Hey, hey kid!" He growled loudly, causing the horses to fidget.

Shocked out of his daydreams the kid spun around, his eyes wide as he dropped the flower he had been holding.

The kid stared up at Soul, his mouth hanging open slighly.

Soul held his gaze for a moment.

Damn if that kid didn't have the greenest eyes he'd ever seen.

They were almost unnerving.

The kid remained silent, and they eyed each other warrily, neither knowing what to say.

Finally Soul cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"You better watch where you're going kid, you almost ran smack dab into my wagon."

"Oh I beg your pardon sir, I didn't see you there." The kid chirped apologetically, bowing his head slightly.

_Oh God, even his voice sounded girly._

Soul cringing inwardly at the sound.

The other cowboys on Forsaken were going to have a hay day with this one.

The kid said no more, but continued to stare at him, leaving him with a weird feeling in his gut.

"Well?" Soul said finally, tiring of the kid's eyes being on him.

"Well what?" The kid asked, his face scrunched in up in confusion.

"Well aren't you going to get in the wagon?" Soul huffed, his patients beginning to wear thin.

"Why would I get in the wagon with you?" The kid asked suspiciously, his face showing signs of mistrust.

Soul sighed, wearily before answering.

"Because I'm the one picking you up dummy."

The kid eyed him warrily, appraising him from top to bottom.

"I thought my uncle was going to pick me up? You're far too young to be him."

"Stein sent me to fetch you." Soul grit out, his patients definitely being tested.

"Oh I see, well you are very late sir." He said crisply his tone of voice bordering on scolding.

Soul bit his tongue, trying his damned best not to snap at the kid.

"Get in the wagon before I leave you." He huffed as he gathered the riens.

The kid neatly nodded, and stooped quickly to gather the flowers he had dropped.

"And leave the damn flowers kid or the other cowboys will eat you alive."

Maka looked down at her colorful array, saddened to leave it behind, but she knew the grouchy cowboy was right.

She didn't want to cause any unwanted attention to herself once she got to Forsaken.

Silently, she climbed up into the wagon, leaving her treasure behind for the wind to scatter and take to the far off corners of the prairie.

Soul considered the kid as he climbed up onto the buck board, noticing how he sat as far away on the seat as possible from him.

Soul didn't mind though, he was used to people avoiding him and giving him strange looks.

His odd appearance had always frightened the locals, why would this kid be any different?

"Sorry I'm not who you were expecting kid." Soul mumbled as he flicked his wrist, sending the wagon lurching forward.

"My name isn't kid, Maka stated as she gripped the edge of the wagon tightly, steadying herself on the bumpy seat.

"It's Lord Maka Albarn. And it's quite alright, I'm thankful that you came to get me... Even though you were terribly late." She finished with a sniff.

Soul shot her a sideways glance, his strange red eyes glaring, but he wisely said nothing.

They rolled on in silence for awhile, nether of them very comfortable with the situation.

The prairie grasses rustling in the wind and the gentle rocking of the wagon was the only sounds to be heard in the great vastness that surrounded them.

"Do you work for my uncle cowboy?" Maka asked finally, almost hesitantly, efectively breaking the award silence.

"Yep."

His reply was short and clipped.

Maka bristled a bit at his rude tone.

"My name ain't cowboy either," Soul said mimicking her earlier statement.

"It's Soul. Soul Evans."

Nice to meet you Mr. Evans." Maka said, nodding her head cordially.

Soul glanced at the kid, wondering if he was mocking him, but the kid's face looked genuine.

"Hmph same." Soul mummbled.

The kid smiled brightly in return, his gangly legs swinging back and forth with the wagon.

_ Good lord, what had Stein roped him into?_

* * *

Maka had a vague idea in her mind what actual cowboys would look like..

She imagined they'd be wise and dusty looking old men who rode big steeds and wore ten gallon hats.

But this.. this wasn't what she had expected.

The young man who sat next to her on the wagon was unlike any she had ever seen.

His face was brooding and handsome and he held a slightly bored air about him.

He was young, but it was hard to tell from his face, he was rather scruffy and in need of a good shave.

He would have been tall if not for his slouch, he obvously didn't care much for his posture.

Most shocking of all though was his hair and eyes.

His hair was a disheveled mess of snowy white and his eye burned a deep and intelligent crimson color unlike any she had ever seen.

They were fascinating eyes.

He tuned his head to look at her, his pale eyebrows scrunching up.

"What?" He barked, tired of feeling her stare at him.

"Oh I'm sorry." she mumbled sheepishly, quickly casting her eyes to the ground.

"It's fine, I know I'm kinda scary lookin'." He scoffed nastily.

"Oh its not that, I've just never seen a real cowboy before." She confided quietly. "You're quite the specimen."

"Ah I see."

Soul was reminded just how far away this kid was from home.

"May I ask you a question cowboy?" Maka asked.

"I suppose." He said dryly, his face still very bored looking.

"I thought cowboys wore big hats or am I wrong about that?"

Soul snorted at the sterotpyical question.

"I reckon most cowboys wear hats."

"Oh, then were is your hat?" She asked curiously.

Soul gave her a sour look, remembering that his Stenson was still resting on the barnyard ground after throwing it at Blackstar.

"That's none of your business kid." He huffed, not able to hide the irritability in his voice.

"Are all cowboys as grumpy as you or is that just your personality?" She grumbled in retort.

A corner of his mouth quirked at that. "That's uniquely me."

Maka smiled at that, obviously relieve that not all Texans were as surly as this one.

"Are Englishers usually this damn nosey or is it just you?"

Maka frowned slightly, having the questions unexpectedly turned onto herself.

"I'm not nosey, I'm just naturally curious. There's a difference." She said after a moments thought.

Soul grunted as if she had said something amusing.

"Sure kid."

Maka fumed a bit at the nickname kid, but said nothing.

"Do all Englishers wear such fancy clothes?" Soul chuckled.

_He was making fun of her._

"I dont know, do all cowboys wear such tight trousers?"

Soul coughed roughly, his ears turning a slight pink shade.

_This englishers had no shame._

"These are denim jeans and they're for work." He managed, choking down his surprise.

_ His denim jeans weren't that tight, where they? _

"It seems silly and indesent to wear clothing that tight." Maka commented, looking rather too close at his denim clad thighs.

Soul didn't like the way those green eyes were gauging him.

"You're not an oddball are ya kid?" Soul asked a little skeptically.

"A what?" Maka stared at him, unsure what he was asking.

"Err, do you have a little sugar in your boots? He explained akwardly.

"Oh, you mean do I like the same gender?" Maka squeaked, finally realizing what he was implying.

"No sir, I uh, like women, they're bloody brilliant."

She willed her face not to burn up as she pointedly looked anywhere but his face.

"Well that's a comfort." He mumbled seeing the shocked look on the kids face.

"Not that I would judge or anything." He added hastily.

It would have been the end of him and his career if his boss came back to find his nephew trying to bunk down with one of the hands though.

"May I ask why you would assume that Mr. Evan?" She still couldn't look him in the eye.

"Well first off, don't call me Mr. Evans. Secondly, between the flower picking and tight pants comment..." Soul mumbled half heartedly.

He was ready to be done with all this useless talking.

"Oh I see." Maka sighed, mentally kicking herself for her lack of concentration.

She would have to try harder to fit in or her cover would surely be blown.

She was already in love with this Texas place, and leaving was not an agreeable option.

She would never go back to England or Ragnarok.

_Never_.

* * *

They rolled along the prairie, neither talking.

It seemed like the grumpy cowboy was trying his best to ignor her very existence.

"When will be on Forsaken cowboy?" Maka asked, fidgeting on the wooden buckboard.

The silence was slowly driving her mad, her rump was getting sore from all the bouncing, and it was taking forever to get there.

"We've been on Forsaken for the last few miles," he answered after a moment.

"Really?" Maka asked skeptically as she surveyed her surroundings.

To her Forsaken didn't look any different from the rest of the country side she had seen.

Was there some kind of marker she had missed?

In her mind she had built up a story book idea of what Forsaken would look like.

The books she had read about Texas had painted a very different looking picture.

"It doesn't look very special." Maka commented as she watched the grassy land pass by their wagon. "I suppose I was expecting more."

Soul turned in his seat and pinned her with a glare.

"Forsaken is the best parsel of land on this god forsaken earth kid. This place means the world to us and everyone around these parts depends on it for its food and shelter. You wouldn't be here wothout it. Don't forget that."

His eyes were like daggars. She felt them burning through her.

"My apologies." She mumble bowing her head to avoid those strange eyes. "I had no idea this place meant so much to you."

"It's everything to me." Soul growled, finally taking those burning red eyes off of her.

Maka breathed a little easier as he fixed his eyes on the horizon.

He stared ahead of them, not saying a word as they rolled on.

Maka desperately hoped that everyone else on Forsaken was easier to talk to than this temperamental cowboy.

The silence was now heavy and thick, like the rolling fog on the ocean had been.

She badly wanted to break it, but the sour look on her companions face made her think twice.

This was turning into a rocky start, and it was all his fault.

Fixing her eyes on the skyline ahead of them she promptly ignored him, instead turning her thoughts towards her uncle and their fast approaching first encounter.

What kind of man was he?

Did he have here papa's red hair?

She desperately hoped that he wasn't as overbearing as her papa had been though.

She vaguely wondered why her uncle hadn't been able to pick her up himself, instead sending one of his grumpy employees to do it.

None the less she was dying to meet her uncle.

She watched with great anticipation, straining her eyes for any sign of the ranch.

There was nothing to see though, in any dirrection.

Nothing but tall rippling grass and the occasional bunny scampering away from the wagon.

The land was vast and empty.

Maka could almost feel the loneliness tugging at her heart.

It felt as if the sea of grass and loneliness would never end as they rolled on, but then, they topped a rather large hill and she saw it at last.

She sucked in her breath as she looked down, seeing the view that spread out.

It wasn't what she had expected, but it was very much a picture book scene.

A small two story ranch house sat in a grassy meadow, bordered by a white board fence, a bright red barn and large corral.

Several out buildings were scattered in the distant fields and grazing cows with their little calves dotted the landscape.

It was beautiful.

Peaceful.

Everything she had hoped for.

"Well what do you think?" Soul asked quietly next to her. "Still disappointed?"

"No, it's beautiful." Maka half breathed, then coughed loudly to cover up the rather girly remark.

Soul didn't seem to notice the slip up though, he mearly nodded in agreement.

"I reckon it's purdy enough."

Soul flicked the reins and they started their downward descent towards Forsaken.

A quiet truse seemed to settle between the two of them.

As they drew closer everything came into clearer focus.

Maka realized that the house wasn't as "little" as she had first thought.

The house was a two story, made of sturdy stone and timber.

A white washed porch wrapped around the structure, adorned with two worn rocking chairs and a quaint little porch swing.

On either side of the front steps roses bloomed heavy with pink, yellow and peach colored blooms.

The smell of horses, wood smoke, and flowers hung lightly on the breeze.

Maka couldn't help feeling a little choked up as she gazed at this new and strange place.

_ This is my new life. _

_My home._


	8. Cow Punchers

The men had all come down from the fields early today.

They sat around the corral in the shade, their boots resting on the rails.

They truly had a lot of work that needed to be done, but they were all curious to get a look at the boss's new nephew.

"Will you get a gander at that?" Black star moaned as he saw Soul and the new kid pulling into the yard.

They did double takes, then openly stared for a long count.

Disbelief painted their features, and disgust followed close behind.

Stein had warned them his nephew had been reared in London's high society and probably knew nothing about hard living, but that scarcely prepared them for the fop who was perched on the buckseat.

"I saw an organ grinder once at the circus." Ox spat a wad of tobacco off a few respectable yards.

"His monkey wore a jacket just like that."

Everyone chortled at that.

The new kid's attire said more about him than anything else might.

After all, no man worth his boots would be caught dead in a Christmas tree green jacket with glittering gold braid and gold buttons.

Stein would shoot any idiot who dared trying to work on clothes like that, then burn the offensive piece of trash . . . after salvaging those gold buttons, of course.

"I remeber that circus monkey danced real silly. Held a cup in his hand and begged. Wasn't good for anything else." Ox scratched his belly and went on with his musing. "Coulda' passed as this one's twin brother."

"I bet that monkey would have been more useful that this kid." Blackstar squinted at the strange sight.

"Stein didn't really saddle us with that, did he?" Tad wiped his hand across his dust streaked shirt.

"He probably didn't known it'd be this bad. Drunk as a skunk, no one could ever imagine this sight." Black star cackled.

Soul eyed them all critically as he swung down from the wagon.

They were supposed to be in the back 40 today, mending fences.

"Get over here you lazy cow punchers." He barked.

Soul wasn't looking forward to introducing the kid to them, but he wanted to see how they interacted.

Watching how the kid got along with the men would give him a better idea what kind of person he was.

The men complied, but they grumbled and drug their feet as they left the shaded area.

The kid swept his gangly legs over the edge of the wagon, lost his balance and went tumbling to the ground, disturbing a small dust cloud around him.

The men looked about to die with laughter, but his swift glare of warning didn't go unoticed.

They muffled their laughter with loud coughing and grunts.

The kid bounced right back up though, not the least bit hurt.

Soul cleared his throat, already feeling awkward.

"These are the ranch hands. Forsaken's best cow punchers."

"Good day gentlemen!" The kid smiled brightly.

"Ho!" The men replied in a shout of disbelief. The kid's accent was odd to the ear.

Mistaking their volume for enthusiasm, the Kid beamed.

"What a wonderful greeting! I'm Lord Albarn, but you can call me Maka. It isn't necessary to use my formal title. I've noticed Americans don't often do so."

"Lord help us." Someone muttered in the silence that followed.

Soul grimaced, but the kid didn't seem to notice the comment.

"I know I'm new, but I truly hope to be a great help to all or you and my uncle while here, and I hope I can live up to his expectations."

Despite Soul's warning glare all the men began to howl with laughter.

Jutting out his chin, the kid asked, "I don't understand what's so funny?"

"Living up to Stein's expectations might be a little hard considering you've set the bar so low kid." Some one laughed from the group.

The Kid swept the men with a haughty gaze.

"I might not know how things in America work, but at least I exercise the civility to introduce myself before I make fun of someone else."

The men had the good grace to look a bit ashamed.

They shuffled around uncomfortably until a short looking cowboy with blue spikey hair stepped forward to introduce himself.

"I'm Black Star, the greatest cowboy to ever walk this earth."

Maka noticed that everyone rolled their eyes heavenward at his proclamation.

"That's Ox Ford, Harvar Eclair, Justin Law, Sid Barrett and the little half-pint is Tadpole Jackson."

The shortest of the the group straightened his spine and glared at Blackstar.

"I'm still growing! And my name is Tad, not Tadpole."

All the men laughed and patted him on the head and ruffled his blonde hair.

The kid just bristled even more.

Maka nodded curtly to each of the men.

They were grimey, rude, and rather loud, but she kind of liked them already.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you. My uncle is lucky to have such wonderful staff."

_ Staff?_

Soul bit back a moan.

The kid's shortcomings could fill a catalogue, and he hadn't been here for two minutes yet.

The men just stared.

Soul finally broke the silence.

"Get busy! You're not paid to jaw with the Albarn kid."

The men scattered, and disappeared without a trace.

Soul slowly walked over to where his Stetson sat in the dirt, grumbling the whole time.

He smacked it against his thigh, then wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve before he put it back on.

He was hungry and grumpy. He hoped the kid would take the hint and leave him alone.

Even after grabbing his hat the kid's position didn't change.

If anything, the kid looked sillier with every passing minute.

He stood there, grinning like a fool, in his ridiculous clothing.

He eyes Soul expectantly.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well don't just stand there like an idiot. Go on to the house kid."

The kid's back stiffened and his chin rose a notch.

"I don't like being bossed around Mr. Evans."

Accustomed to men following his orders, Soul stared back in silence until the kid finally looked away.

The only great perk to having monster eyes was people rarely won a starting contest against him.

The kid stooped, lifted the bag, and nodded.

"Very well, I'll show myself in."

Though he decided to obey, the kid had to have the last word.

His lack of size, strength, and knowledge were huge liabilities; but the attitude..

Soul shook his head.

A kink like that could get someone killed.

The first order of business was going to be setting this Fancy Pants kid in his place.

Soul watched the boy lollygag up the steps and dissapear through the door.

Black star shuffled over. He must have been hiding close by.

"What the hell was that?"

"That," Soul said in a funereal tone, "is Stein's kin."

"How in the devil did Stein happen to get saddled with a nephew like that?"

The long time cow puncher shook his blue head from side to side in disbelief.

"He's prissier than any of the Thompsons' daughters!"

Soul grimaced.

"His chin is still smooth as a baby's tail."

"I noticed."

"Get a stiff wind going, and he'll be teacup over toenails. I got a look at his hands. Smooth as silk, not a callus on 'em. I'll bet he ain't never done a lick of work either." Black star chuckled.

"Well, I suppose he's still young. His voice still cracks. He probably won't even start shaving for another year or two. There's still time to correct his upbringing."

Black star laughed at his optimism.

"The kid should have been a preacher. Knows fancy words and fine manners and such. That'd make him a natural for that callin'. Much better than a cowboy dandy."

Soul shot Black star a wry look, but didn't verbalize his thoughts.

As much as he wanted to agree with his friend, it wasn't right.

After all, that pathetic pup was his boss's nephew.

This called for loyalty and discretion.

"I can't let Stein come home to that pitiful excuse of a kid. We have to whip him into shape."

"Miracles take more time than that." Blackstar mused.

"I don't know about miracles, but I do know about men."

"Boss, you're gonna have to look long and hard to find enough material in that kid to scrape together anything manly. I've seen women who looked more like a man than he does!"

"Soul broke into a fleeting smile, then glanced back at the house and grimaced.

"When Stein gets back and catches sight of his new nephew, my promotion is gonna fly right out the window."

"That's not going to happen boss, nobody deserves this job more than you."

Soul's voice took on deadly resolve. "Whatever needs to be done will get done. I'll make a man out of him yet. It's going to be mighty unpleasant, though."

"All the luck to ya boss, "I've seen two-bit chippies with more taste in their clothes."

"Clothes can be changed."

There were times when life just handed you nothing better than a blister on the backside when you had to ride all day, and this was one such time.

It galled him, but Soul Evans wasn't a man to shirk his responsibilities or abandon his friends.

He wouldn't fail Stein. He owned that man more than he cared to admit.

He muffled a groan at the thought of what the next months would bring.

"I know you don't want to fail Stien, but someone's likely to get hurt, the kid don't know squat about ranchin."

"I'm painfully aware of that possibility." Soul's voice didn't betray the acid churning in his belly over that very fact.

"It'll fall to me to work with the kid until Stein shows back up."

Black star let out a bark of a laugh. "Should I take wagers with the men on which of you folds fastest?"

"Try, and I'll see to it that you're on stall cleaning duty for a month."

Black star grinned, but didn't hedge it further.

"Don't you have work to do?" Soul asked, wondering how Black star had kept his job for this long.

"Fine, fine. I'm leaving. You have fun with baby sitting boss!"

Soul scowled after Black star as he lazily turned towards the corral.

"I won't be baby sitting for long. I'm going to start training the kid first thing in the morning!"

"And I don't envy that Kid one lick!" Black star yelled over his shoulder as he trotted out of sight.

Now alone, Soul stared at the porch with great apprehension.

He would have to go inside eventually.

_ Heaven help me. _Soul silently pleaded.


	9. A Disagreeable Dinner

Maka tromped up the porch steps with her head held high.

Wisdom dictated she leave those rough men to their rowdy jokes, but pride demanded she do so with decorum.

She refused to let Mr. Evans bossy and cold disapproval bother her.

Nothing was going to ruin her adventure, not even him.

_ And what an adventure this was turning into! _

So far she was quite pleased.

Living here was going to be interesting.

The staff here needed to be taught manners, but that was something she could oversee.

They didn't introduce themselves properly and not a one offered to help her with her bag.

Her Mama had always said even the best staff slacked off when the master was gone.

From the top-notch condition of the grounds, the place must normally be run admirably.

Her uncle not being here was likely the cause of their rude ways.

"C'mon in!" an unseen woman sang out before Maka could even shut the screen door behind her.

A willowy woman in a blue calico apron appeared, nearly scaring Maka out of her new shoes.

The woman had waves of inky black hair pulled into a lopsided bun at the top of her head and her cheeks were flushed pink against her ivory skin.

She wasn't american, or even English.

She had a soft lilt to her voice that sounded foriegn.

Intelligence sparkled in her coffee-colored eyes, and small laugh lines at the corners proved she had a sense of humor.

She was the most exotic woman Maka had ever seen.

"You must be the young Albarn. I've been expecting you."

Maka smiled brightly.

Finally someone sivilized.

"Hello, you must be my aunt?"

The woman laughter lightly, mild surprise in her eyes.

"Oh, no. Stein has never been hitched, and I imagine he never will. My name is Tubaki, I'm the caretaker of the house."

"Ah, I see."

Maka felt slightly disappointed.

Her new family would be much smaller than she was hoping for.

"Do you know by an chance when my uncle be back? That grouchy cowboy said he wasn't here, but I was too nervous to question him further."

"That must have been Soul. Don't take no offense from him, I'm pretty sure he was born with a lemon in his mouth." Tubaki chuckled softly.

"Your uncle will probably be back in a month or two if I had to guess."

"Months?!" Maka choked out.

_How could that be? _

Tubaki must have seen the dissapointment on her face because she made a soft humming noise.

"Now now, don't you worry, your uncle will be back before you know it. He's a tough old boot, but I know he's excited to finally meet you."

"A month ago I didn't even know I had an uncle, I suppose I could wait another month to meet him." Maka sighed.

Tubaki patted her lightly on the back. "That's the spirit sweetie, don't let anything get you down."

Maka nodded her head in agreement; she was a tough Texan now, there was no need to be disheartened.

Her uncle being gone could actually work in her favor. It'd give her more time to master the act of being male.

"You must be exhausted from your trip sweetie." Tubaki commented, bring Maka from her thoughts.

"There are three empty bedrooms up stairs. Go on and pick one out. I'll come up in a bit to put sheets on the bed. No use in letting sheets go stale on a bed that lies empty."

She smiled softly at Maka.

"Supper's in an hour. I'll holler once and only once. You show up on time or you go hungry around here. These men here will eat us out of house and home in the blink of an eye." "Thank you." Maka murmured, feeling a little out of place. "Don't worry hun, you'll do just fine here. If you need anything just holler, my room is down the hall from yours. If I'm not in the kitchen, then you can always find me in the garden out back."

"Thank you so much for your hospitality."

Maka hesitated, staring at the stairs.

She hardly knew this Tubaki woman, but she already felt at ease with her.

She had been so lonely since her papa died, she almost wished the house keeper would let her stay with her in the kitchen.

Tubaki seemed to sense her hesitation.

"Hun, you'd best move on upstairs. Soul's gonna be bustling through soon, and he'll mow over you faster than a toad gulps flies."

It was not a reassuring metaphor.

Maka pictured the surly cowboy with the red eyes frowning at her with disapproval again.

She shuffled forward.

"I'll locate a room and meet you for supper. Thank you for being so kind to me."

Tubaki smiled brightly.

"Not all of us here on the ranch are grumpy old dogs."

"That's good to know."

"If you want my advice hun, Soul's going to give you a hard once-over at dinner. You ought to put on something a whole lot plainer if you don't want to have him squirm all through the meal. He's not a man to abide fussy manners and fancy clothes."

Maka had noticed the cowboys were all in shirtsleeve and denim as Mr. Evans had called it.

Maybe she did look a little more different than them. Standing out too much could be a problem.

Her secret might be discovered if she was watched to closely.

"I don't really have too many clothes."

"Well, you just wear whatever is most comfortable for you hun."

Maka smiled in return and headed up the stairs.

Though her bag was light, holding her few meager possessions, her shoulders felt as if they couldn't bear the burden for a second longer.

Her journey had been so very long.

Once she reached the head of the stairs, she walked straight into the first chamber and dropped her bag.

Nothing short of a pistol aimed at her head would convince her to pick it up again for the foreseeable future.

The bedroom held a modest bedstead and a nice threedrawer chest with a carved mirror above it.

A small bookshelf nook, and a long window seat gave the room a happy warm feeling.

Heavy green damask curtains hung on either side of the large window, and faded cabbage rose wallpaper finished the decor.

Maka smiled at the room.

She could spruce it up with a little attention and care.

In truth, it was far prettier than what she'd planned to find in the midst of this wild place.

The glimpse she'd gotten of the downstairs let her know the other rooms, though well worn, were tastefully appointed, too.

Perhaps Texas didn't entirely lack civilized touches.

It was probably the sweet housekeeper who had lovingly decorated.

The mixture of refinement and commonplace struck her as oddly charming.

She dropped down onto the edge of the bed.

Her feet ached every bit as much as they did after a long evening of dancing in London's finest socials.

Heel, toe, sole, and instep all burned and ached.

Struggling out of the boots, she rubbed her toes and decided to fetch a pitcher of water so she could wash up and soak her feet.

After that, she'd unpack and find her plainest shirt.

As she reviewed Tubaki's words and considered all of the men she'd seen, Maka had an alarming thought.

Mr. Evans would mow her over? Did that mean that brute of a cowboy was coming to dinner with them tonight? Did he live in the main house as well?

She had seen several out buildings and had assumed that's where the hired men lived.

Surely her uncle would allow such a man to live in his home with him?

Shaking her head to dislodge the troublesome thought, Maka tried to relax.

The cowboy was too . . . something.

She couldn't put her finger on the right word for him.

So far she had gather that he was her uncle's second-in-command.

Terse and rough-edged and gruff and, well, rude.

He didn't like her. She could see that as plain as day.

Whatever the reason why he disapproved of her was of no consequence though.

She wasn't going to let him bully her or ruin her evening.

She wasn't going anywhere.

Cheered by that thought, she went in search of water.

Under an hour later, the clock downstairs struck.

Maka heard Tubaki's call for supper and hastily smoothed her hair as she glanced in the mirror over the chest of drawers to ascertain if she'd done a sufficient job of binding herself.

Twisting sideways, she craned her neck and examined the effect.

She looked flat as a board.

A small smile tilted her lips as she gleefully judged.

At least being a small woman was finally good for something.

She left her room and started down the stairs.

Halfway down, she was run over by an express train of a man who galloped down the very same flight.

His boots made a muffled thunder that carried an oddly rhythmic quality, and his large body didn't seem to move at all from the hips up as those muscular legs churned with surprising agility and grace.

Once he hit the foot of the stairs, the man stopped and gave her a cool, assessing look.

It was Mr. Evan.

His hair was wild, his smile grim and pointy.

Without a word of apology, he wheeled to the right and strode off.

She remained rooted to the stairs.

This wild beast of a man can't be Uncle Stein's partner. Could he?

* * *

Following the scent of food, Maka went in the same direction Mr. Evans had.

With every step she wondered why Uncle Stien's rude partner was invited to be a dinner guest.

He sat at the huge trestle table. Alone.

He'd already started serving himself.

He looked freshly washed and dressed in a crisp blue button up.

He did clean up into a respectable-looking man.

Truth be told, he cut a fine figure.

For all of the refined gentlemen she'd seen in high society, none had ever looked half as imposing or innately capable of facing anything life might bring.

He glared at her from behind his mountain of mashed potatoes.

He'd spruced up on the outside, but that was it.

The man still failed to exhibit even a hint of manners.

Tubaki thumped a big bowl of green beans onto the table.

"Hello hun, why don't you have a seat before Soul eats everything in sight?"

"Thank you Tubaki."

Maka took a chair, mirroring his glare right back at him.

"Good evening Mr. Evans."

Her voice cracked like an adolescent's.

Grabbing for his coffee, Soul nodded. "Kid."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

Mr. Evans was going to be difficult. . . .

She had started out thinking this would be easy, but she was wrong.

If he wanted to be difficult, well, she was up for the challenge.

Maybe it would make her time here go by quickly.

At least until her uncle returned.

As she slipped her napkin across her thighs, Maka tried to approach conversation as she'd done back home.

Civility might tame the beast a bit.

"So, Mr. Evans"... Stop calling me Evans, it's Soul to everyone else."

Maka bit her cheek in annoyance.

She tried again, rushing through her sentence before he could interrupt her again.

"So, where are your people from?"

"My people?"

"Yes. Your people. Your family."

"I don't have a family."

The curt clip of his voice let her know to cease pursuing that line of talk, so she segued, "Pity. You've certainly done well for yourself. Forsaken appears to be a fine place."

"How would you know enough to make that judgment Kid?"

"I walked the length of the road. The fence is well kept, and the house is quite stunning. Then, too, there are all sorts of cows everywhere."

"Cattle—not 'cows'—and they're not everywhere. We've moved them to pasture off at the southeastern sector for the moment. Other sections are empty at present to let the grasses grow."

"Oh."

An awkward silence fell between the two.

Maka knew absolutely nothing about ranching and it bothered her greatly.

Maybe she could find a book somewhere on the subject?

"Do you ride? Most Englishers are trained at horsemanship, aren't they?" he asked, turning the tables on her inquisition.

She fought the telling blush that heated her cheeks.

Last night it had dawned on her that she'd have to ride astride.

Such a skill must, of necessity, be altogether different from perching on a sidesaddle.

It was a scandalous thought.

Her papa would be turning over in his grave if he knew what she'd eventually have to do.

She had always secretly wanted to ride a horse full stride though.

There was something quite exhilarating about riding a horse like a man.

She pictured herself like a wild indian, riding barback and free.

Though she was quite proficient at riding in a lady's english saddle, straddling anything would be a new thing to learn.

Hopefully the men wouldn't notice her lack of experience.

"I . . . er . . . excelled at equine studies. My time has been mostly spent in academic pursuits though."

"Hence the smooth, narrow hands and a complete lack of any muscle on those spindles you call arms."

The man shoveled food in like an animal as he spoke.

Nearly mesmerized by the precision with which he sliced off huge chunks of meat and devoured them, Maka hardly felt the sting of his implied insult.

"Did you study anything of particular interest?"

"Oh yes. Greek history, Roman mythology, Latin, and poetry. I also appreciate fine art."

"So much for the frills." Soul took a big swig of coffee.

"No one round here speaks Latin or walks around spouting poetry. Best painting in these parts is a sign in the feed store. Did you study anything useful?"

"I scarcely believe you'd find dancing or British history to be of practical application here in the West."

"You got that right kid."

Waving a fork in the air and disregarding the fact that mashed potatoes plopped back onto the plate, Soul announced, "No one sits on their tail around here. You're going to have to carry your weight."

"I plan to do just that Mr Evans."

Soul glared, the brat kept calling him Mr. Evans and it was driving him insane!

"Yes, you will kid. You'd best be ready—because come sunup, you're going to start earning your keep."

"I'm not afraid of hard work. I'll also remind you that I'm not exactly a hired hand to be ordered about like some kind of liveried lackey."

She wiggled in her chair slightly, squared her shoulders, and dabbed at her lips with the napkin.

"There is my position to be considered, I am your bosses family."

Soul leaned back in his chair, shook his head, and scowled.

"Fancy Pants, you've got it wrong. That stinkin' title of yours isn't worth a hill of beans around here. I don't care if you've got a crown permanently affixed to your head, you'd better slap a hat over it because you'll still have to work."

The man wasn't just blunt; he was ruthless.

He completely lacked couth.

Maka gave him a disbelieving stare.

He glowered straight back.

"Stein's a hardworking man. He expects every man on Forsaken to earn his keep. You're no exception. If you don't work, I'll kick you out of here before Stein makes it back."

Maka reared back at the force of his words.

"There's no call to be uncivilized."

Maka hates how her voice wobbles.

All she can think about is being sent back to England.

To Lord Ragnarok.

"We aren't civilized around here. Best get that through your head kid. Life is rough. Rugged. Hard," he hammered at her in a harsh tone.

"You don't toughen up, you won't survive. Pure and simple, the useful survive. The weak don't."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Take it however you want, but you're due up at daybreak. I respect your uncle too much to let him come home to an English dandy of a nephew. By the time he gets here, you'll have learned enough to make yourself useful and maybe, just maybe he'll let you stay."

Maka's fork and knife clattered to the plate.

"What's wrong kid? Did I spoil your appetite?"

"No, but it's apparent nothing spoils your appetite you brutish oaf! You've torn into a perfectly delightful meal with no more manners than a rabid wolf, watching you eat has made me sick."

"Wolves tear apart baby animals that are wet behind the ears. Don't forget that, kid."

Soul took a huge bite, gnashed on it only half a dozen times, and swallowed while staring at her.

Daring her to say more.

Maka caught herself swallowing along with him.

Soul gave her a smile that showed every last one of his teeth.

After that, there wasn't any more supper conversation.

Maka quietly thanked Tubaki for dinner then slipped into her room.

She went to bed and lay in the dark, horrified.

To be sure, the soft bed felt great, but her mind reeled with the cowboy's actions.

How could Uncle Stein have left her to the vagaries of such an animal?

A big one, too.

She'd tried to convince herself he wouldn't be worthy of a second-in-command position, and seeing him at the table came as a terribly rude shock. He held the authority to send her away.

The way he acted as if she was a problem galled her; yet, that was precisely his perspective on things—and he made no bones about it.

But if every man here works, then he's right.

She couldn't help but feel useless.

Maka had to admit she presented a unique challenge to the man.

He obviously had loyalty to her Uncle Stein and wanted him to be spared the pain of seeing a relative who was pitifully inept.

How much would this deception of hers cost though?

The lie had been so simple in the beginning.

The thought of masquerading as a man had been fun, promising adventure.

Now all it promised was an oafish cowboy and hard work.

The idea of misleading others went against her deep sense of honor, but it paled in comparison to the appalling alternative of becoming Lord Ragnarok's wife.

The very thought made her shudder.

She wasn't going to give up so easily.

Maka determined she would have to become a man's man and quickly.

She needed to develop mettle to make it through, and even though she hated him, Mr. Evans was probably her best bet at learning.

With her resolve improved Maka finally fell into a restless slumber.

She dreamt of smoke and flames, savage indians, and of wolves with crimson eyes and disarming smiles.


	10. Chores

The door rattled on its hinges from a solid boot kick, but Soul got no response.

Tubaki yelled from downstairs, "You leave that poor kid alone. He's traveled from across the world to be here. Let him sleep in, at least for today?."

"Sorry Tubaki, can't do. I've got a lot to teach this kid and not enough time to do it."

Soul wrenched the doorknob, and barged into the small bedroom.

He grabbed the mattress and with one quick flick of his wrists, sent the kid tumbling through the air.

He hit the floor with a resounding thud.

The kid let out a shrill yelp.

"I gave you a wake-up call fifteen minutes ago Kid."

Soul dumped the mattress back down on the bed frame.

Disgust twisted his features as he watched the kid clutch the rumpled bedsheets to his nightshirted chest.

"Stop squawking. Get on your feet and get moving. If you don't show up to eat in five minutes, I'll eat your flapjacks."

The kid glared back in defiance.

Soul shot him a heated look.

"Don't ever make me come in here to tilt you outta your bed again."

Soul strode out of the room, he didn't want to stick around and listen to the kid whine.

No use in both of them eating Tubaki's flapjacks cold.

He sat down to breakfast, said grace, and implored God to intervene with Stein's nephew.

If ever a situation existed that required divine intervention, surely this was it.

Eight minutes later Soul watched in utter disbelief as the youngster shuffled down the stairs, took his seat, and carefully cut a single, tiny bite of a flapjack and daintily slipped it between his lips.

The kid even crooked his pinkie like a fussy Englishman.

Soul propped his elbows on the table and fought the urge to bury his head in his hands.

"Eat up, kid."

One flapjack and two rashers of bacon.

_How could that possibly be enough? _

No wonder the kid is all skin and bones.

The kid scanned the table and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Soul barked.

"I don't see the sugar or cream for the coffee."

"Black and strong enough to float a horseshoe, that's how men drink their coffee here. Finish eating. We've got work to do."

Soul smothered a smirk.

The stables usually reeked in the morning from the horses.

Fancy Pants Albarn might not possess a single skill, but that wouldn't matter.

Anyone could grab a shovel and muck out stalls—and that was precisely what Soul planned to assign the kid today.

The kid took a sip of the strong coffee and made a face.

"Organization is key to success. I presume you and my uncle have routines that keep matters well in hand here on the ranch?"

"There's a general routine, but animals have a habit of putting a kink in whatever plans we make. There's not a man on this spread who lacks the full array of necessary skills."

Soul gave the kid a telling look.

"I'll see to it you learn the ropes."

"Ropes!" The kid perked up.

"That would be wonderful! I'd love to learn how to throw the lariat!"

Soul inwardly winced at how the kid pronounced it "larryette."

"It takes time, practice, and diligence to handle a lasso."

"Well, then, I suppose once I get good with the larry-ette, I'll move on to the lasso."

"Lasso is another term for lariat." Soul pronounced it larryut and hoped the kid would get the hint.

"When someone learns the ropes, it means they gain proficiency in the essentials. You'll have to learn other basics before you learn to throw a lasso."

The kid's brows puckered.

Soul couldn't be sure whether it was from displeasure at that news, or from the sip of black coffee he had just drank.

It didn't matter. Either way, Fancy Pants Albarn was going to endure plenty of things he didn't relish in the weeks to come.

Soul rose from the table, growing restless.

"Finish up and be quick about it."

The kid bolted to his feet. "I rarely eat breakfast. Shall we go?"

Maka didn't mention that she often skipped breakfast because she hadn't had enough money for the extra meal after her papa had passed. She didn't need this geuff man's pity.

Soul gave no response.

He pivoted and headed across the floor and out the door.

The kid scrambled to keep up with him as they went towards the stable.

Outside Tad and Justin were replacing boards on the corral.

"I see the staff is hard at work. That's commendable."

Soul stopped and locked eyes with her.

"Get this straight, they're not staff. They're hands or cowboys or the men—or punchers."

"Oh, I meant no offense."

Soul scanned the kid and shook his head.

The kid looked apologetic, but he couldn't help it.

He was so different, from another world really.

Even his clothes spoke volumes.

"Whatever passes for men's duds in London won't cut it here kid. Baggy shirts and pants will get caught or chafe you. Next time you go to town, get a few pair of britches and shirts that are boys' size."

The kid's jaw hardened.

"Mr. Evans, I happen to feel more comfortable in loose-fitting attire."

Then the kid added in a quieter grumble, "Besides, these are boys'."

Soul nodded curtly and said nothing more.

He wasn't sure of the Kid's exact age, but he guessed it doubtlessly embarrassed him to have to buy boys' clothing at his age.

Hopefully, he'd soon have enough muscles and height to take up the slack in what he now wore.

People were like crops though.

The ones that were tended and fed right grew best.

Proper activity, training, and plenty of food might boost the kid into a sprouting season.

"I beg your pardon, but I didn't hear what you just said."

From the Kid's comment and quizzical look, Soul realized he must have mumbled something under his breath.

He shifted his weight and sighed heavily.

"Good food and hard work are what you need."

"Miss Tubaki's food is quite tasty, I'm sure I'll be eating more in no time."

"Which leaves hard work." Soul strode to the stable with a sly grin.

"Black Star!"

"In here!" he yelled back from somewhere in the large barn.

The Kid trotted alongside Soul reminding him of a lost pup.

"Wow, look at the size of the stable! How many horses do we have here?"

Soul couldn't be sure whether the kid was claiming ownership or speaking in general terms when he said "we".

He decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, even though it irked him something fierce.

"The ranch owns two dozen horses. A couple of the hands own their own mounts, so the total tally is thirty-one."

The kid's eyes widened. "Thirty-one! I didn't realize there were that many men here."

"There aren't. We keep three mounts for each man."

Black Star strides over to them, holding a shovel.

Soul shoots him a pointed look.

A slow knowing grin creases Black Star's face.

"There's plenty of stalls ripe for the getting kid."

Soul chokes, trying not to give away his amusement.

Craning his neck, the kid peers down the stable.

"There aren't that many stalls."

Soul slaps Black Star on the back.

"Nope. Not that many at all. Shouldn't take you long."

Balck Star chuckles, not even bothering to hide his laughter.

"What shouldn't take me long?"

Soul accepted the shovel from Black Star and thrust it at the kid.

"Mucking."


	11. A gentleman's wager

What felt like an eternity later, Maka mucked out yet another stall.

Her hair had slipped from its tie and she forcefully shoved a snarl behind her ear.

Why had she even bothered brushing her hair today?

She felt the sweat and grime clinging to her body as she worked.

Her friends back in England would have swooned at the very scandal of it all.

Maka would have been modified as well if it wasn't for the one thing driving her forward.

Ragnarok.

The though of him touching her was far more filthy than anything a horse could produce.

"Well, well, if it isn't his Lordship Fancy Pants Albarn."

Maka looked over her shoulder at the booming voice.

"Hello sir." She said, recognizing the rangy man with blue hair.

"I hardly recognize you Albarn, you look different with a shovel in your hands and shit on your boots."

After Mr. Evans' warning the day before, Maka had anticipated the teasing and jeering that was bound to come her way from the cowboys.

A woman would wine or be offended by the situation.

A man would take it, or even joke back.

Maka flashed him a cocky smile.

"I'd rather have muck on my boots than listen to the muck coming out of your mouth sir."

Black star chuckled and leaned against the stall railing.

"You have more spirit than I thought kid."

Maka smiled, enjoying her secret victory.

She was getting better at acting like a man.

She would have never said anything so crass a month ago.

"Hey kid, you better put some gloves on before you get blisters." Black star finally said once his laughter stopped.

"Too late, I already have them."

"And you're still shoveling?" Black star grabbed her hands and looked down at the angry welps forming on her palms.

"Dumb green horn, wash your hands and put gloves on. Do you want them to fester?!"

All traces of his amusement left his face.

"I don't own any gloves."

"What kind of man worth his salt doesn't own gloves." Black star mumbled as he walked over to a dusty shelf and grabbed a pair of gloves.

He threw them at her and scowled as she slipped them on.

"Those are way too big for you. I've never seen a fellow with such small hands."

"It's an Albarn trait." Maka lied, feeling a little nervous.

"Well that's not a trait to be proud of kid. Small hands means a harder life. I'll grab you a pair of boy's gloves next time I go to town."

"Thank you sir, that's very kind of you."

"You can just call me Black star." He said cracking a grin. "I reckon you and I should be friends kid. Anyone who drives Soul as crazy as you do is alright in my book."

Maka returned his grin.

Making her first friend here had been exceptionally easy.

"Plus, the boss is going to be so busy keeping an eye on you he wont't even notice when I sneak away for naps now."

Maka's smile slipped as her insides churned at his words. Something about Mr. Evans watching her... it made her feel uneasy.

"Who's taking naps?" Soul asked as he stepped into the barn's doorway.

Maka hadn't seen him all morning, but the smudge of dirt on his pale jawline testified the fact he'd been busy.

He had come in at the wrong moment, while she was standing around talking and not shoveling.

His disapproving frown spoke volumes.

Suddenly earning his approval mattered to her.

"Stop jawing and get back to work kid, I've got another job for you once you've finished mucking."

Her shovel scraped the floor in her haste.

"Yes Mr. Evans, I'll be done in a few more minutes."

"And you Black star, stop bothering the kid and get back to work. Tsubaki needs your help."

Maka noticed Black star perk up at the mention of the house keepers name.

It was so subtle a change that she might have just imagines it though.

"What does she need?" He asked casually.

"She says that damn fox has been digging holes under the henhouse again. Go fill the holes back up, and you might bury some wooden spikes too, just for good measure."

"Add a healthy dash of cayenne pepper to your last spade of dirt." Maka chimed in.

"Huh?" Black Star looked puzzled, like she was speaking Latin.

"Cayenne, I'm sure Tsubaki has some in the kitchen. It irritates the nose and eyes of a predator. That fox won't come back very soon after getting a sample of it."

Black Star turned to look at his boss in question.

Soul gave a half smile, which was about the only kind of smile Maka had seen from him so far.

She briefly wondered if the reason he was so grumpy was because his life was a dull one.

"I've never heard of such a hair brained thing."

"It's true Mr. Evans, it really works."

Soul frowned at her.

The kid kept insisted on calling him Mr. Evans and he secretly hated it.

"I'll tell you what kid, we'll have Black star fill in one hole with spikes and another hole with cayenne pepper. We'll see once and for all which method keeps the fox out."

Maka smiled. "Care to place a wager on it?"

"Sure!" Black star burst out.

"No." Soul glowered.

Black star huffed. "Come on boss. I know you don't like any of us gambling, but this seems pretty harmless."

Certain of her solution working Maka shot Soul an oh-so-innocent look.

"He's just worried of losing the bet, especially to an Englisher."

"Oh ho ho!" Black star crowed. "You gonna take that jibe boss?"

Soul groaned.

"I'll take your bet kid, just don't tell Stein we're teaching you bad habits like gambling."

"I won't say a word Mr. Evans. Why don't you and I have a gentlemen's agreement then? Instead of money, perhaps we could settle on the loser having to do a chore."

Like muck the stable . . .

Soul crooked a pale brow at her.

Hooking the heel of his boot on a wooden slat, Black star drawled, "Boss, isn't that henhouse due to be cleaned out?"

"It is."

"So do we have an agreement?" Maka strove to sound blasé.

"If the fox goes through the cayenne, I clean the henhouse. If he goes through the other section, you do the honors."

"Fine. It's a deal."

He stuck his hand out and she shook it firmly, like a proper man would.

"Now get back to work kid, the day is still young."

Maka felt so smug, she hardly even noticed the weight or odor of those last few scoops of muck


	12. Confidence

After what felt like an eternity, Maka finished shoveling.

Though it was a down right dirty job she felt rather accomplished.

Trotting out side she found Black Star and Mr. Evans by the corral talking in hushed tones.

Probably about her if she had to guess.

As she approached them Black Star had the decency to look bashful, while Mr. Evans gave her a baleful glare.

"What's next?" She asked cheerfully, choosing to ignore his foul mood.

"We're going for a ride." He stated flatly.

Maka nodded. "I'll be ready immediately after I've seen to... matters. Where is the wash closet located?"

Soul looked at her like she had slugs coming out of her ears.

"Why do you need to wash up? You're about to get pretty dirty anyways."

"I reckon boss the kid needs to take a piss." Black Star chuckled.

Soul rolled his eyes. "There's a tree over there kid, be quick about it."

Heat flooded Maka as she looked to Mr. Evans in disbelief.

_How could the man be so crude?_

She leaned closer and stammered, "I . . . er, happen to have . . . um, digestive difficulties."

"Why am I not surprised. All right. The outhouse is back over that way. Hurry up. I don't have all day."

Maka quickly scurried to the outhouse before Mr. Evan's could change his mind on the matter.

As she walked she strained to think of any other major details she had overlooked.

This masquerade while fun wasn't as easy as she'd hoped.

Her secret was always foremost in her mind and the weight of protection it was taking its toll.

She had to keep going though, it was too late to turn back now, not after all she had gone through to get here.

Maybe once she turned 18 she would come clean and tell her uncle the truth.

Maybe he would have pity on her and let her stay, even though he specifically said in his letter that they had no room for women on the ranch.

If he kicked her out she'd be stranded in a foreign country with no money and nowhere else to go.

Maybe I'll go live with the Indians and become a wild native. Maka thought wryly as she stepped into the outhouse.

While she had a few moments in the cobwebby, dank privy, she made sure the knot on her chest binding would stay secure.

She wished she'd brought along the powder she used to keep her corset from chafing back home. The binding she now wore rubbed dreadfully.

After her business was finished she walked back to the corral.

Chewing on a long shaft of grass, Soul watched her as she made her way back.

He didn't bother to remove the grass as he muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

He looked piqued.

But then again he always looked like that.

Black Star on the other hand was enjoying himself immensely.

He truly meant what he'd said earlier about about her annoying the boss, he took great pleasure from it.

Maka pasted on a cocky smile, just to rile Mr. Evans a bit further.

She probably shouldn't provoke him, but the man made it so much fun.

"Think we should put her on Diablo boss?" Black star asked, a knowing smile on his face.

"Diablo?" Maka asked a little confused at the odd word.

"It's spanish for devil." Black Star chuckled.

"Maybe, if you want to kill me before my majority." Maka grinned back.

"I feel like Stein wouldn't find that very funny, coming home to a fresh grave is sure to rile him." Soul commented. "Let's make it kippie instead."

"You got it boss, I'll go saddle him up."

"No, please, let me do it. I needed to lean myself."

Soul lifted a pale eyebrow at her, but nodded his approval.

Maka quickly regretted her impulsive actions.

The beast known as Kippie was huge, and the saddle weighed a ton.

It was so much different from her light English saddle.

Everything in her arms and back screamed as she rose up on her tiptoes to fling the saddle onto the horse's back.

She managed to get the halter and bit on correctly, even though she held her breath in fear that the horse would nip her fingers.

She worked without complaint though, under the severe scrutiny of Mr. Evans.

Maka led Kippy into the yard, her heart in her throat.

The men who had been out working in the pasture seemed to find cause to draw closer to watch the show.

She tried her best to ignore their presence. It wasn't easy, since they gave a running commentary on how poor they anticipated her performance would be.

They planned on having a grand time watching her fail, and it made her smirk.

They were in for quite a surprise.

Against her papa's wishes Maka had spent every free moment she could in the saddle.

It wasn't considered overly proper in England, but she had alway been a little stubborn.

Growing up in a strict household hadn't been the best, but riding had alway made her feel a small semblance of freedom.

She steeled herself with a deep breath, reached up, and barely clasped the pommel.

_Why did this beast have to be so tall? _

Soul sighed, stalked over to her, grabbed her leg, and half tossed her upward.

She flew clear over the other side of the horse. If her boot hadn't snagged in the stirrup she would have landed face first in the dirt.

Never in Maka's life had her legs been spread this wide. Her papa was probably rolling in his grave all the way in England.

Kippy shuffled forward a few steps as she hung there limpy. Bloody images of being trample spurred Maka to flex her arms and pull herself back up in the saddle.

All the men howled with laughter and Soul gave her a wicked smirk.

"Sorry kid, I guess I misjudged how much you weigh. You're no heavier than a sack of flour."

That would have been a compliment for a woman. For a man, it didn't happen to be very positive.

Maka glared at him from her high perch.

He was trying to humiliate her, infront of all the men.

"Gotta adjust the stirrups for you." He tugged at a buckle near her shin. "You're pretty damn short kid."

Maka sat stock still as he ran his hand down the length of her leg with the strap.

It was a completely innocent gesture, but no man had ever been so familiar with her and she fought the telling blush threatening her cheeks.

"At least the kid knows how to hold the reins, he must have ridden a little before at least." Justin commented as he watched with trained eyes.

"Yeah but his feet are all wrong!" Little Tad chimed in.

The men all nodded in dismay.

"I've got a dollar that says the kid won't last two minutes in the saddle." Justine whispered in a hushed voice.

"Well I've got two dollars that says the kid does great!" Black Star whisper yelled.

Maka looked over to Black Star in surprise.

He threw her a not so discreet wink.

Maka grinned in return, glad to have at least one person who believed in her.

"No gambling!" Soul barked. "You know the bosses rule."

The men all grumbled but drew closer to watch.

"Heels down toes flat kid." Soul whispered under his breath as he finished adjusting her stirrups. "Keep your back straight like that, but loosen up a bit. You're way too stiff, and the horse senses it. Relax and use your knees to direct him. A little thigh pressure, and he'll respond."

_ Was he trying to help her? _

After he had gone out of his way to embarrass her earlier?

Mr. Evan's was truly a hard man to figure out.

Maka didn't have long to ponder though. Flashing her a capricious grin Soul slapped Kippy hard on the rear sending the beast abruptly forward.

"Bloody hell!" Maka exclaimed as she lurched in the saddle.

The sudden move made her thighs tighten, and her heels instinctively dug inward to gain better balance.

Kippy began to canter.

It only got worse as she increased the pressure, and the gelding broke into a run.

"Sweet saints!" She leaned forward and hung on for dear life.

The men began to holler and laugh.

What was she doing? Acting like she'd never ridden before.

Maka then realized the pace wasn't anything new to her.

It was like she was on a foxhunt back in England. If anything, sitting astride gave her far better balance and control.

Her confidence had been shook momentarily by a red eyed scoundrel, but she could do this.

She relaxed her legs, and Kippy slowed naturally.

She could feel the horses muscles flex and give as she found her seat.

Giving herself permission to use the opportunity to play around with this new freedom, Maka kicked the gelding and got him to a full-out run.

This was how horses were meant to be ridden!

They circled around a tree and returned to the ranch yard.

"Fuck me, the kid can actually ride!" Black Star declared. "Pay up fellers!"

Soul shot Black Star a death glare.

Black Star cackled as he reached up to grab Kippy's halter for her as she slowed.

"You ride great kid, why were you so damned nervous?"

Maka grinned impishly down at her friend.

"I've never been in a saddle like this."

As soon as she made that proclamation, Maka felt a sense of utter horror.

_ How could she have been so stupid? _

She'd just given away her secret!

They would definitely figure out she had only ridden in a womens side saddle.

Black Star scratched his stubbled chin in thought. "Those bitty little English saddles are what you used? I've seen one before. No wonder you questioned your ability."

"Yes," she breathed in sheer relief.

"I'll go saddle up so we can head out, I'd like to show you the property before lunch." Soul said as he turned toward the barn, leaving Maka with the hands.

As soon as he was out of sight Black Star laughed as he gave her an open-handed smack of goodwill on her thigh. "Kid, you just earned me three bucks. Next time we're in town, your first beer is on me."

_Beer?_

She'd never had beer in her whole life.

Still, Maka knew it was a sign of friendship among men.

Nodding, she lowered her voice as best she could. "Thanks. I look forward to that."

The rest of the men all gathered around, joking and congratulating her.

She stood easily with them, laughing as they clapped her on the back and ruffled her hair.

In England she had been so lonely. Her Papa had died so suddenly, leaving her alone with no family to speak of. Her friends had also left once the news of the bankruptcy had gotten around.

Now though, as she stood on foreign soil, surrounded by open sky and so many odd people she couldn't help but feel glad.

That large hole in her heart suddenly didn't feel so big and empty.

Soul quickly reappeared, leading a beautiful palomino paint into the yard.

"Stein wanted that north fence finished before he got back, I'd get started on that quick if I was y'all." Soul groused, giving the men a knowing look.

The men all shuffled their feet, looking everywhere but his face.

"Let's get going kid." Soul said as he fluidly swung into the saddle.

He jerked his head slightly to the side, as if to say, "follow me," and took off at a slow canter.

"Good luck with **that**, kid." Black Star smiled sympathetically.

Maka nodded, her chest suddenly feeling tight as she urged her mount to follow.

The thought of being alone with Mr. Evans made her feel uneasy.


	13. A Common Rake

Maka nudged her heels into the gelding to make him lope.

The faster pace was exhilarating. She wanted to go faster.

Soul was a little ways ahead of her and she'd be damned if she let him control the pace.

She kicked a little harder and gave Kippy his head so he could really stretch his strides.

They swept over the sea of tall grasses, parting them like ripples in a pond. The ground churned up by the gelding's hooves smelled of morning mist, fresh grass, and damp earth.

They sailed past an unsuspecting Soul who had pulled up to waiting for them.

Maka let loose a wild laugh as they passed him.

She laughed because of the look on his face and she laughed for the sheer joy of letting go.

She felt free and alive. She had greatly missed the feel of riding.

It had been far too long since she had been in the saddle, not since she was forced to sell the last of her horses to pay for her father's mounting debts.

Soul spurred his horse forward to catch up to her, but she leaned forward in the saddle as kippy found his next gait.

She was the wind itself.

The air tore at her hair and clothing, and made her eye water at the sting.

If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she was a bird. She was flying high above in the endless sky, not a care in the world.

Surprisingly Soul quickly pulled his gelding up next to hers and matched her speed.

Maka watched him from the corner of her eye. The man could ride; he and his horse moved in perfect rhythm. She'd grown up watching English gentlemen ride, but none of them ever commanded a horse like Mr. Evan's did.

"Do you even know where you're going?!" Soul yelled above the sound of their horses thundering across the prairie.

Maka tossed him a cheeky grin and pulled her horse up to a slower pace before she came to a complete stop.

"No idea." She breathed.

Her hair had come loose and her cheeks felt flushed, but the pure exhilaration of flying had been worth it.

Soul cracked a grin at her then spun his horse to the north. "Follow me Kid."

If the air hadn't already been knocked out of her Maka probably would have gasped.

Wonder of wonders, the man was capable of smiling after all.

They rode a fair bit away from the ranch before their horses found a comfortable side-by-side gait. Soul pointed out a few salient landmarks, then halted his mount at the peak of a gentle hillock.

Maka had to not only stop Kippy, but struggled to get him to backstep. Her success felt good, though, and Soul's slight smirk of a smile was ample reward.

They sat there as Soul gazed off at the horizon. His thoughts obviously elsewhere.

Maka took the opportunity to study him more closely.

His eyes were definitely crimson. His hair needed a decent trim as the edges looked uneven. His shirt was frayed at the collar and cuffs, too.

Slung casually over his hip sat a grey barrel gun with a polished wooden handle.

"Do all cowboys carry guns on their hips and have shoot outs?" Maka asked after a moment of silence.

Soul grunted at her question, considering how to best answer. "I reckon most cowboys carry guns."

He scratched his head in thought, making his hair stand up wildly.

"But we don't just go around shooting people. We carry them for personal protection from wild animals, rogue Indians and lawless folk."

"Indians!?" Maka shrieked rather a little too high pitched.

"There are Indians around d here?!" She looked around wildly for feather wearing, ax toting savages.

"Don't worry, there haven't been any around lately." Soul said with a small chuckle. "Not with the Texas Rangers camping out near by."

"That's a shame, I'd truly love to see one." Maka said with a pout.

Soul eyed her suspiciously, but kept his mouth shut.

He hoped to God that this fancy pants kid never got his wish.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent in easy silence.

They rode to the north, crossed a shallow stream and followed it back to the east for a ways.

The babble of the creak was a soft lull, lost in the infinite sea of whispering grass.

The prairie was so beautiful and also terribly lonely, all in the same breath.

Flat miles of olive sage and wind-ruffled grass. But the buttes, which had been but blurred humps in the distance, were now suddenly upon them.

It was like the quickening swell of an ocean wave, the way the plains rolled into ridges studded with yellow pines and dipped into coulees choked with brush.

Maka couldn't believe so much land could belong to just one person.

Her uncle might not live like a lavish man, but his wealth in land was astounding.

"Where are all the cows?" Maka queried, wondering why she hadn't seen a single one yet.

"They're in the south 40 right now, we rotate them from different sections as the seasons pass. It keeps them from eating all the grass down." His voice hovered on judgmental, like it was a common knowledge occurrence.

How was she to know though?

Maka couldn't help but feel that she had a lot to learn about ranching.

She had spied the little library in her uncle's home just this morning, maybe she could find some books on the subject there? She needed knowledge, otherwise her uncle, Mr. Evabs, and all the other cowboys would never come to respect her.

"Lets stop up ahead and let the horses rest a bit before we head back." Soul said, bringing Maka out of her despairing thoughts.

Pulling Kippy up next to his mount they stopped under a small stand of interesting trees.

The trunks grew in great twisting arcs and sharp thorns sprouted from limbs. Long green beans hung in clumps, hidden high above in the spring foliage.

Maka had read a book once about dragons and these trees reminded her of it.

Spikes, scales, and hellfire.

It was not a tree she would ever consider climbing.

Though it was only spring, the sun was shining with great intensity so the shade from the strange trees felt nice.

Maka resisted the urge to ask her grumpy companion more about the exotic trees, fearing he would shame her again with those steely eyes.

She would remember to ask Tsubaki about them later when she returned to the house.

Soul leaned forward in his saddle and patted his horse's neck as they rested.

Maka couldn't help but notice how magnificent his horse was.

She hated to admit, but was a very accomplished horseman. She also noticed that his body and the horse's seemed to blend as one, since his trousers and the horse's coat were almost the same shade of light brown today.

"What are you gawking at?" he asked, his eyes moving to hers.

His words jolted her out of her perusal, but with her usual candor, Maka informed him, "You look like Pan."

"Pan?"

"In Greek mythology. He was the god of herds. He's half man, half—well, not goat. Horse, in your case."

Soul's brows crooked.

I'm babbling, Maka realizes and clears her throat. For a fleeting moment, she tries to be silent, but Soul's strange eyes sets her off into an explanation.

"There are creatures in other cultures' myths, legends, and tales. Satyrs have the top half of a man, and the waist joins where the neck of a beast meets the body. With your trousers and the horse's coat so similar in color, the likeness is remarkable."

He gave her a heated look. "Kid, I'm going to lay things on the line with you, you need an education in just about everything except useless book learning. That kind of knowledge is likely to get you into real trouble."

Maka gritted her teeth in frustration. "What makes you the authority on what's useful and what's not? Knowledge is knowledge. Just because my knowledge doesn't pertain to cows you deem it unfit? You've probably never read a book in your whole life. So why are you judging me so unfairly? "

His eyes flashed life knives and a slow growled rumbled in his throat.

"First of all kid, don't you ever use that tone with me again. If you ever show disrespect like that again I'll take out behing the woodshed, bend you over my knee and tan your hide something fierce. I don't care how old you are, if you act like a child, then you will be treated as one. Respect is everything around here and if you don't have it we will teach it to you."

Maka felt her cheeks burn at the thought of laying his hand on her rear.

No man had ever been so forward with her.

"Secondly, you insulted my own learning. Just because I work outside for a living doesn't mean I'm not educated. And for your information you called me a satyr. For your enlightenment, that creature happens to be insatiable. Greek mythology states he lusts after anything in a skirt and exercises no restraint. I could take real exception to your characterization of me."

Maka thought her face couldn't be any redder, but she was wrong. Even her ears burned.

_Revelry_. Pan was known for his revelry, but lasciviousness? Dear mercy, how had she forgotten about that part?

She had essentially, without knowing, insinuated that he was a common rake.

It was bad enough she had called him uneducated, but proclaiming him a promiscuous man... well that was just an unfortunate turn of the tongue.

"I- I beg your pardon, I didn't mean it." Maka said weakly, her head spinning.

"Growing up privileged made a freak of you. Unless you do a lot of learning fast, the boys in the bunkhouse are gonna eat you alive. Or worse yet, something out here will get you first. You have to learn kid."

"I've proved I can ride."

"Stick to riding. The way your hips sway when you walk, you look like a girl."

Cold terror washed over her. "A girl?"

"Knew that'd upset you. I'm of a mind to strap a holster around you to weight you down a mite. Between that and you using your butt instead of your thighs to move those nubs you call legs, that ought to solve the problem."

"Really!" The man had absolutely no class.

"Really," he drawled. "The difficulty is, you'll be fool enough to have a bullet in each chamber and blow off a few toes."

"Give me your pistol." She extended her hand.

"You aren't going to shoot me, are you?" Soul reached for his holster.

"Believe me , the temptation is there. Nonetheless, I'll refrain from that and give you a demonstration."

He still looked dubious as he handed her the pistol, but Maka decided to take the opportunity to prove she wasn't completely helpless.

"Is the barrel true on this?"

"Absolutely."

"See that knob on the tree stump over in the clearing?"

"Yup."

She took aim and fired.

Without even checking to confirm her results, she handed back the weapon.

"Now you don't."

Amazement altered his pale features. "How?"

Maka savored his shock as a great victory.

"Fox hunting is a great past time for the English."

She smirked widely.

"As Cervantes said, 'Thou hast seen nothing yet."' She handed back the weapon. "Your pistol's nicely balanced."

"Kid, you're in Texas. Here you say, 'You ain't seen nuthin' yet."'

Maka's mouth quirked. "You ain't seen nuthin' yet."

Soul shoved the gun back into his holster and gave her a long assessing look.

"How old are you kid?"

"Seventeen."

He echoed in a disbelieving tone, "Seventeen?"

"I'll reach my majority in January on my birthday."

Maka straightened her shoulders and sat tall in the saddle.

Squinting, Soul leaned closer. A little too close for her comfort.

"I don't believe it. Kid, you're not even shaving yet. I thought you were somewhere around fourteen."

Offended, Maka glowered at him. "Your estimation was obviously as faulty as your opinion of my marksmanship and equestrian abilities."

"You're probably the gangliest kid I've ever seen in my day. Your body doesn't keep up with your tongue or there'd be more to look at."

Maka had never thought herself a true beauty, and now disguised as a male she knew her looks were even less favorable, but good lord the man was starting to hurt her feelings.

"You, sir, are detestable." she huffed.

"You're entitled to your opinion."

He gave his reins a commanding yank. His palomino turned and cantered off.

"We better get back to the house."

Maka glared daggers at his retreating back.

He should count himself lucky she didn't have a pistol anymore.

She didn't know when or how, but one day she'd make Soul Evans pay for his arrogance.


	14. Meals and regrets

That evening the supper table remained silent; no conversation, no questions.

The only sounds were of cutlery scraping the plates and glasses being sat back on the wooden tabletop.

That, and the horrendous sound of Soul eating his dinner, like the wild heathen he was.

Maka couldn't help but glare at him from across the table.

Soul finished his meal much quicker than Tsubaki and the kid had so he now sat silently nursing a cup of coffee. The quiet was grating on his nerves.

Finally, he breached the icy silence.

"Listen, kid, we're going to have to get along. I know I'm a blunt person. I don't know what you're used to, but men out West don't mince words. Best get used to it."

Maka gave him a belligerent look.

Soul took another sip of the coffee, then set it down. "It's obvious you're just a late bloomer. Sure you're scrawny now, but it doesn't mean you won't fill out. Some good, hard labor will help with that. After a month or so, you'll have some muscles. Fresh air and plenty of meat will give you something to grow on, too."

Maka frowned deeply at him. "Is this supposed to be some kind of olive branch?"

Tsubaki, who had quietly been listening the whole time sat her fork down and laughed. "I've been here on the ranch for almost 19 years and I've never seen Soul apologize for anything. That's probably as good as you're going to get darlin'."

Maka nodded, fearing as much.

Mr. Evans was a very proud man.

Heaving a longsuffering sigh, Soul rose from the table. "Look, until Stein gets back, I'm in charge around here. He asked me to take you under my wing. I'll hold up my part. I refuse to let him down."

Maka concentrated on buttering a slice of bread.

_C'mon, Fancy Pants. Be a man. Say you'll do your part._

Maka set down her knife with great precision, raised the slice, and took a bite.

The kid was blatantly ignoring him.

_I gave you a chance. You didn't take it. _

Soul shook his head in disgust. He strode from the dining room, out the door, and to the barn.

He'd stay here til the kid went up to bed.

Earlier in the day, he'd dressed a mare's foreleg that had been cut. A cursory check showed the swelling and heat had gone down.

"At least something's going right."

"Boss?"

He turned. "Black Star."

"Wanted to tell you, I took care of the henhouse. Tsubaki didn't want to give me her cayenne, but I talked her into it."

"Tsubaki is pretty particular with her kitchen, how'd you talk her into it?"

"Didn't you know? I'm great with the ladies. Some might even say a God."

Black star grinned at Soul, but he didn't return it.

"What's wrong with you? I didn't even get a laugh or an eye roll from you."

Soul sighed heavily, wondering how to tell his best friend that he was being bested by a spoiled snot nosed brat.

"Its the kid, isn't it?" Black Star smiled knowingly.

Soul hung his head and nodded. "I don't know what to do with him, he's impossible to be around."

Black Star ran a hand through his spikey blue hair, a teasing smirk on his face. "You're not the easiest person to around either boss."

"I know my people skills ain't the best, I was raised up on this ranch my whole life. I'm a little rough around the edges as far as polite society goes, but at least I have some manners!"

"Maybe manners are different in England than they ate here?"

"Hmm maybe? I couldn't say. The fact is that he's not in England anymore, if he doesn't like our way of life then tough luck. He's stuck here for the time being, whether likes it or not. After Stein returns he has the choise to return to England, until then he's my problem."

"Give it time boss, it's only been his second day here." Black Star mused. "Besides, I rather like the kid."

"You would." Soul sighed.

"Why don't you let the kid work with me then? I wouldn't mind the help or the company."

"Do you even work around here?" Soul snickered.

"When I can't get out of it!" Black start cackles, causing the horses to stir.

"That's the problem I'm having, the ranch never lacks chores that need to be done, but Fancy Pants Albarn... Well, what could the kid do?"

"Getting him to round up cattle and drive them to the next pasture would be a disaster. He'd likely start a stampede."

Soul grimace at the very thought. "I'd rather him not work anywhere near the cows unless we're with him."

"Smart idea boss."

"Fencing is definitely out. Stretching barbed wire takes a steady hand and quick reflexes. If the wire snaps and snarls, a man could get cut to ribbons quick."

Black Star chuckes to himself. "I can picture Stein coming home to his new nephew only to find out we accidentally sliced a few finger off em'. Huh, what about branding boss?"

"The kid probably can't figure out which end of a branding iron goes where."

"Geez give him a little credit boss, he might be English, but he's smarter than the average rock you know."

Soul suddenly smiled, a big sharky kind of grin.

"What are you scheming boss?"

Soul just smiled wider.

"Black Star, sometimes you're a genius."

* * *

Tsubaki knocked on the bed chamber door, causing Maka to bolt straight out of bed.

"Are you up? Breakfast will be ready in 15 minutes. Why don't you come down a little early so we can talk?"

"I'll be right down!" Maka called as she hastily grabbed her clothes. She had laid them out the night before incase she needed to dress quickly.

Keeping her secret meant she had to stay one step ahead of everyone.

Maka had filled her pitcher the night before, and she quickly splashed herself clean with the cold water, yanked the binding around her chest with vicious intent, and knotted it securely in place.

She carefully tucked in the edges of the binding so she wouldn't have to worry they might flap around.

The shirt was so big, she didn't need to unbutton more than the top fastener to slip it over her head.

She made a mental note to repeat that time-saving trick.

She refused to let Mr. Evans throw her out of bed again.

Fighting her way into the legs of some britches, Maka decided men's clothing wasn't quite as simple as it once seemed.

_Neither is being a man. _

Back home, the things men did seemed so simple.

They rode and went on fox hunts. Courted women, played billiards, and went to gaming halls. Retired after supper to smoke and drink port.

At least that's what her papa did.

Her experience with men had been limited growing up. Her papa had seen to that, always being over protective of her.

She shook her head. He was gone now and she was on her own.

_Everything is so different here._

It was turning out to be far more involved and complicated than she could have imagined.

Maka made her way down the stairs cautiously, keeping an eye out for Mr. Freight Train Evans.

The house was quite though as she slipped into the kitchen.

Tsubaki stood at the stove, her willowy frame bent over a frying pan.

To Maka's surprise Black star sat at the little kitchen table watching Tsubaki as she cooked.

He sat very still, so still she would have missed his form in the corner if it hadn't been for his wild hair color giving him away.

His face looked placid and a small smile curved his mouth, as is he was thinking of something pleasant.

Maka froze in the doorway, unsure if she should continue, but Black Star swung his gaze over and gave her a slow wink.

"Mornin' English. Come pull up a chair." He called softy as he patted the wooden stool next to his.

Maka sat down next to him, feeling a little dazed. She hadn't know the loud cowboy for long, but she had always assumed that his voice only had one level of pitch. She had never heard him talk so quietly.

She eyed him suspicious and he chuckled softly.

"I don't want to wake up the boss." He stated as he jabbed a finger upstairs. "He's awful cranky in the mornings."

Maka couldn't help but snort at that.

"When is he not cranky?"

"True." Black Star chuckled. "He's not so bad once you get to know him though."

Tsubaki nodded her head in agreement. "He's a very complex man, he's been through more trying times than most people have. Because of that he has trouble expressing himself."

"What happened to him?" Maka asked curiously.

Tsubaki grimaces, as if she's said too much. "When you two become more friendly, why don't you ask him yourself?"

Maka nods, knowing it isn't really her business.

It makes sense though, no one is just born that cranky or sour.

Maka doubts they will ever be on friendly terms, but she thinks she understands him a tiny bit more now.

"So what are you doing here?" Maka asks, trying to change the subject. "I've never seen you in the house before."

Black Star throws Tsubaki a warm smile before answering. "Tsubaki's cinnamon rolls are to die for. I sneak in every morning to snag one before the boss gets up."

"Are you not allowed to be here?" Maka asks shocked.

"It's not common for the cowpunchers to be in the main house unless invited. We have our own sleeping quarters at the bunkhouse and our own cook so there's really no reason for us to come in here."

"Except to track mud into my kitchen." Tubaki laughs as she looks at a Black Star's boots.

Black star has the decency to look slightly ashamed.

"I'll sweep that up for you Tsubaki."

"No, I'll take care of it, Soul will be up here pretty quick and I don't want you getting grouched at this early."

Black Star grinned as he pushed away from the table.

"I guess I better skidattle then. Good luck today English, give the boss hell for me." He said with a wink.

Maka grinned in return.

Black Star stopped in the little doorway that led from the the kitchen to the back porch, him and Tsubaki locking eyes. "Thanks for breakfast Tsubaki."

She smiled sweetly in return.

He hesitated his hand clenching his dusty hat.

For a moment Maka thought he was going to say something else, but he spun on his heels and strode out the door.

Maka glanced slyly at Tsubaki who was clutching her spatula and staring at the door.

Maka cleared her throat and Tsubaki shook her head and smiled.

"I'm sorry hun, I wanted to talk to you for a bit, but Black Star showed up unannounced and Soul will be galloping down those stairs soon."

"I don't mind talking now," Maka said, feeling a spark of interest.

"Don't worry hun, I'll come find you later this evening. If you don't get a head start into the dining room now you run the risk of Soul not saving you any food."

Maka's stomach at that moment growled very loudly in agreement.

Maka blushed at her stomach's protest and Tsubaki laughed merrily.

"Go on hun, I'll be along shortly with the food."

Maka nodded and shuffled from the kitchen. She looked down the hall and up the stairs, but all was quiet.

Maybe Mr. Evans wouldn't be joining them for breakfast?

Before she could even complete the thought she was practically ran over in the doorway to the dining table. "

Move it kid," he barked. "Didn't your momma teach you not to block doorways?"

Maka glared at his back as he swept past her.

He was a trainwreck of white hair and long legs.

Maka sat primly across the table from him, as far away as possible.

If she had it her way she'd eat breakfast in the cozy little kitchen with Black Star instead.

Or even out in the pasture with the bloody cows at this point.

The silence hung like a dead thing between them at the table, neither acknowledging the other.

Maka refused to break eye contact with him though and she could tell it bothered him.

He seemed restless in his chair and his throat bobbed up and down.

With his strange eyes he probably wasn't used to people keeping eye contact.

Tsubaki chose that moment to save the day by bringing in three steaming plates of food.

She sat them down and hummed a soft song as she poured three cups of coffee before settling in her own chair.

Maka relaxed a little easier having Tsubaki in the room with them.

She hadn't realised how much tension she was holding in her body until she felt it slowly melting away. Tsubaki truly was an angel.

They began to eat, and Maka wondered what Tsubaki had set before her.

The taste wasn't objectionable, so she decided she'd inquire about the meal once Mr. Evans finished his and stalked off.

"Tsubaki, this is really-" She caught herself just before saying, "delicious." A man wouldn't be that flowery with words. "—tastes good." she finished, taking a quick sip of her coffee to cover up her blunder.

"Everything Tsubaki makes is good." Soul shot the housekeeper a warm smile.

Maka almost spit her coffee out in surprise.

Mr. Evans was actually capable of paying someone a compliment?

Tsubaki titters softly and shakes her head at him, but doesn't seem surprised by his kind words.

As soon as he finishes inhaling his portion, Soul looks up at the housekeeper with a stunning smile.

"Tsubaki, honey, that's a meal to make a man's belly dance a jig. Got any more?"

That's two smiles, one after another from him.

The man was positively full of charm and surprises today.

Maka can scarcely fathom this side of him.

Maybe he was having a few bad days before, maybe today he was over them.

"I know it's your favorite. Of course there's more." Tsubaki padded off to the kitchen and came back with a skillet clutched in a bright red dishcloth.

Soul scooped up another heap onto his plate, but instead of digging in again he leaned back in his chair, his gaze swinging to Maka.

He slyly waited until she took a bite and her mouth was full before speaking.

"Yep. Nothing beats a good plate of calf brains and eggs!"

He patted his stomach and gave a wicked grin.

Maka completely forgot to chew.

She didn't really want to swallow, either.

The food in her mouth suddenly felt very wrong.

The urge to bolt from the table and empty her stomach rolled over her.

Maka sat perfectly still.

Then she saw it, the gleam in his crimson eyes.

He was teasing her, or maybe even testing her.

It took all of her will power, but she swallowed the food.

Giving him a mocking grin, she commented as she scooped up another bite of egg, "This is a great meal. In England we usually eat kidney pie, blood sausage, or a little liver for breakfast."

Soul's smile fades a bit, the corner of his mouth turning down.

Maka wonders if it was because she hadn't raised to his bait or if it was the description of her English food.

"So you like unusual foods, eh?" He gave her an assessing look.

The back of her neck prickled.

He was definitely up to something, but she wasn't going to allow him to trap her.

"I do enjoy trying new foods, even if they are on the exotic side."

"How... proper."

He said the last word like it was a dirty word.

Once again he was mocking her for being different.

"You know what _is_ proper Mr. Evans?" She asked, her voice raising slightly. "Not shoveling your food in. You eat like a common barn animal."

Tsubaki burst out laughing, tears nearly spilling from her eyes. "I swear, you two deserve each other in the morning."

Soul glared at Maka for her audacity.

Maka mearly grinned back.

Tsubaki smiled between the two. "The kid's a cheeky little rascel, isn't he?"

"Not for long."

It was a warning.

Maka's stomach flip flopped at his words, even more than the cow brains had cause.


	15. Giving up?

Once again Maka mucked out the stables after breakfast.

It smelled horrible, but she was getting better at it.

She was done in no time today and despite herself she felt a little proud.

The second she finished though Soul showed up to drag her outside.

He hauled her behind the house to a patch if baren land.

"Tsubaki wants a bigger garden this year. Collect the rocks and line them up with the lines I've scratched in the dirt."

Maka nodded. She'd rather be a help to Tsubaki than Mr. Evans any day.

The patch of land he had marked out was thirty yards long and almost as wide. Everything from thumb size pebbles to pillow sized boulders dotted the area. Maka couldn't help but feel defeated at the sheer number and sizes of stone.

"I'm supposed to budge those huge things by myself?"

"Those aren't huge kid, I already moved the larger rocks over that way." He waved his arm negligently toward a collection of rocks that might as well have been the foundations for a fortress. "I left you the smaller ones. Get busy. I want you to till and hoe it tomorrow so Tsubaki can plant it the next day."

Soul gave her a walloping smack between the shoulder blades to set her into motion and strode off.

At first it seemed daunting, how much she had to move, but little by little Maka made progress as the sun rose higher.

Several hours later, her back ached and her arms trembled. Her hands, even with the over sized gloves, were raw with blisters.

Maka was just about to take a water break when something stung her on the rear.

She let out a loud yelp and spun on her heels, positive something had bitten her.

Soul stood leaning against the fence rolling a small pebble between his fingers. "Lunch time, kid."

"Did you just throw a rock at my rear?" Maka asked, her face blazing with mortification and anger.

He smirked at her.

"Maybe."

Maka exhaled slowly, trying to gather a sense of calm.

He was watching her closely. Everything was a test with this man. She could tell he was waiting for her to lose her temper.

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

She nodded once and dusted her hands on her britches. "Let's go then, I'm famished."

He nodded curtly then pivoted toward the barn. He almost seemed a little dissapointment that she hadn't taken his bait.

Maka's muscles screamed at her as she moved to follow him.

She huffed in frustration as she trotted to keep up with the long legged cowboy.

They veered around the barn and walked a short ways towards a large clapboard building.

What had Black Star had called it? A bunk house? It must be where the other cowboys lived and slept.

The house was unimpressive; the door hung crooked on its hinges and the windows looked like they needed a good washing, but it had a certain charm about it that Maka liked. It was tucked away, hidden in the shade by three gigantic red oak trees. A rusty horse shoe hung above the crooked door, a small campfire burned warmly out front, and a small table full of playing cards leaned against the south wall.

The cowboys had abandoned their card playing to line up infront of a little shack attached to their bunk house.

Smoke rose from the chimney in great billows and the sound of pots and pans banging around and harsh cursing came from within.

A very sweaty and frazzled man opened a window and leaned out. "Grubs on!" He shouted as he beat a tin ladel against the window sil for emphasis.

The men surged forward, and one by one received a pie tin full of food.

Maka quietly took her place in line behind Soul. The wild eyed cook thrust a tin into Maka's hands.

"Here ya go, Albarn. A perfectly symmetrical plate of maggots al la mode."

Revulsion streaked through her. Soul gave her shoulder a jostle and chuckled. " The cook likes to give his food fancy-sounding names."

"He's quite . . . descriptive." Maka blinked at the tin and forced herself to smile.

"It's not really maggots, it's what folk around her call rice with stew sometimes."

Just about the time she'd decided Soul Evans had no redeeming qualities, he'd saved her from making a fool of herself. He must have seen how close she had been to emptying her stomach onto his boots.

"Did the kid just insult my cooking?" The cook scowled at her and Soul.

"Of course not, we were discussing how good it smells. Soul motioned to the cook. "Better give me extra."

"That's more like it. You want some blood or fire?"

"Both." Soul took his tin. "But I'll add them myself."

Soul shook a bottle over his plate. Red goo plopped out. The second bottle was smaller, and the reddish orange watery contents poured out.

"Stop hoggin' the Tabasco," Black star groused. "In fact, give some to the kid. It'll put hair on his chest."

"And singe it all off." Soul shoved the bottle at Black Star who cackled in response.

They all took a seat at a long rough saw plank table that sat under the shade of the red oaks.

Maka wedged herself between Black Star and Mr. Evan's and took a tentative bite of her food. She was surprised how good it actually tasted for having such a horrible name.

The men ate in silence, and it was probably the quietest she'd ever heard the rowdy bunch be. Maka ate almost half of what she'd been served.

Soul ordered in a low tone, "Eat up, kid. You don't want to insult the cook."

Maka looked down at the food. She couldn't eat another bite, but she didn't want to offend the cook.

She was starting to realize how important respect was to these boisterous cowboys.

A swift hand slid over, swiped her tin, and replaced it with an empty one. Maka swung her gaze to the owner of the hand, taking in the lanky, sandy haird cowboy.

Justin Law was his name, but other than that she knew nothing about him.

His blue eyes seemed to be staring off in the distance. A moment later, he ducked his head and shoveled in every last morsel.

He didn't say a word—just pushed away from the table and sauntered off.

As she rose from the table, Soul murmured, "You owe him one. A man always pays his debts."

"I'll take that to heart." Maka nodded, wondering why the quiet cowboy had helped her.

"Enough jawin' kid, those rocks aren't going to move themselves." Soul said with a sly grin.

Maka frowned at him, but it only seemed to make his smile broader.

_What was with him and grinning today? _

She almost wished he'd go back to glowering at her, his smiles were very unnerving.

Reluctantly, she made her back to the field of stones. It seemed like there were more rocks now than when she left.

_Did the bloody ground just grow boulder here? _

She worked the rest of the day lugging, pulling, pushing and tossing stones to the edge of the plot.

Her fingers were swollen and her nails chipped, but she pushed on.

As the sun began to sink behind the horizon and the sky turned into twilight mist she hobbled back to the house.

She left her filthy boots on the porch so she wouldn't ruin Tsubaki's impeccably swept floors, and padded into the house in her socks.

The smell of dinner wafted from the kitchen to greet her.

It smelled brilliant, and although her stomach growled in protest, she passed the dining room by.

She was bone tired, filthy, and she didn't have the fortitude to deal with a red eyed devil tonight.

Right on cue his large frame appeared on the stairs, effectively blocking her path.

"What's wrong Kid? Not hungry?"

He smirked at her, taking in her socked feet, dirt covered britches, blistered hands and wild hair.

His lingering gaze slid lazily over her from head to toe.

_The audacity of this man!_

Maka's breath caught in her throat, her ears burning at the intensity of his gaze.

No man had ever looked at her so openly before.

Didn't he know how rude it was to stare?

Finally she found her voice, even though it sounded small in their shared space.

"No I'm not hungry."

"Where are you going then?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, still regarding her with those keen eyes.

"If you must know I'm going to bed. Now if you'll excuse me." She said as she tried to sidle past him up the stairs.

Soul learned in, perilously close to her, barring her way.

He wasn't much taller than her, but years of hard labor had shaped him into an imposing man.

He leaned closer , his eyes red ambers in the fading light, framed by the white fringe of his hair.

He looked like a predator, standing so very close to her on the stairs.

"Are you giving up, kid?" He asked softly. "Are you going back to England?"

Every warning bell in her body was sounding.

He was trying to intimidate her, and Lord give her strength it was working.

She narrowed her eyes at him and took a shallow breath before speaking.

"Not a chance in hell."

Soul chuckled low in his throat. "Good, I was hoping you'd make this interesting."

No longer caring if their bodies touched Maka pushed past him, making sure to put her elbow into his stomach as hard as possible. He let out an "oof," as she she slid past him.

She clambered up the stairs, her face red from anger and her arm scorching from where their skin had briefly touched.

She heard his laughter floating up the stairs as she slammed her bed chamber door firmly behind her.

She let out a long suffering sigh then went to her window to open it.

Being that close to another person had made her feel unbearably warm. His body put out heat like a furnace and she felt slightly dizzy from the ordeal.

Maka glanced at her reflection in the standing mirror and grimaced at her reflection.

Her shoulder length hair was lank and dusty, her face caked with grime. She'd never worn filthier clothes, and as she peeled off her shirt, she noted that the dirt went clear through her chest binding and actually made a small ooze of mud in the sweat that trickled down her front. She almost cried when she started to unknot the strip of cloth.

In her haste that morning, she'd left a raw edge up under her arm, and it seesawed with her motions enough to actually start abrading her skin.

For a woman who had never in her life even had to sweat, let alone work, this was a terrible fate.

Still, she had no choice.

Having chosen this path, she had to stay the course.

After all, she owed a debt to Justin Law, she had made two new friends in Tsubaki and Black star, and she really was happy here.

The work was hard, the customs here were strange and new, and Soul was an unbearable heathen.

But... she had never had so much freedom in her life. It was truly exhilarating.

She should have donned mans clothing a long time ago. Even if they did get filthy more often than not.

Maka kicked her boots off and the rest of her shirt, ready to slip into something clean and warm before surrendering to sleep.

A single knock sounded on her door, and it swung open before Maka could react.


	16. Petticoats and secrets

The door swung open on silent hinges, a tall shadow looking in the doorway.

Maka scrambled for her discarded shirt on the floor, but it was too late.

"Its ok hun, it's just me." Tsubaki's voice called softly as she slipped into the room.

Maka turned her back to the door and covered herself as best she could.

_ Maybe she hadn't noticed? _

"I'm not decent for women's eyes." Maka squeaked.

Tsubaki shoots her a sly little smile.

"It's ok hun, I know." Tsubaki says in a hushed tone as she steps further into the room.

"What?" Maka stammers as she finally turns to look at her.

"I've know since the first day we met. One look at you, and I knew straight off that you were a woman."

Maka couldn't help but gape at the raven haird woman.

"How? I thought I had hid it so well"

"Your gender was pretty obvious to me. The men around here are the world's biggest pack of fools sometimes." Tsubaki chuckled softly. "I would have talked to you about this sooner, but I couldn't find the time to speak to you alone. Even now I can't stay long here with you or it would raise suspicion. Do you think you could come to my room down the hall in an hour? Soul will be dead asleep by then."

Maka, feeling bone tired and slightly overwhelmed could only nod her head in reply.

She had been found out and there was nothing she could do about it.

If Tsubaki wanted to, she could tell Soul about her true gender.

He would no doubt be too pleased to send her back to England.

Maka's face must have shown her distress, because Tsubaki smiles gently at her.

"Its true we have a lot to talk about, but don't you fret none, your secret's safe with me."

Maka let out a long wheezing breath, her brain reeling a bit. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath the whole time.

She still felt on edge, but there was a small glimmer of hope there.

Tsubaki giggled as she turned to leave. "Don't forget to breath sweetie, everything is going to be alright."

"Why would you help me?" Maka asked suddenly, finding her voice.

"Why would you lie to Soul and to everyone you know?"

Tsubaki paused at the door, her dark eyes shining with mirth. "Because us woman have to stick together." she said simply and then slipped out into the hallway.

The door clicked softly behind her and once again Maka was alone in her room.

She had a thousand questions left unanswered, but Tsubaki had put her fears to rest.

They hadn't known each other for long, but Maka felt that Tsubaki had been nothing but kind to her.

She believed that she would keep her secret.

They were both women, and they shared a kinship that none of these rowdy cowboys could ever understand.

Maka couldn't help but smile as she redressed.

* * *

An hour later Maka tiptoed out of her room and down the shadow filled hallway.

Tsubaki's room wasn't very far down the hall, but Maka took her time as she inched her way along the wall.

Every board in the floor threatened to creak as she took one slow step after another.

Maka had never been a woman of grace, often tripping over her own feet, but she felt rather proud of herself as she sidled up to Tsubaki's door.

Men's britches definitely gave her more mobility.

With Soul's room also on the same floor Maka opened the door and slipped in without knocking.

The last thing she wanted to do was wake up Soul, her nerves were frazzled enough without adding him into the picture.

Tsubaki sat at a small corner table reading a book by the light of an oil lamp. Her exotic dark eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled in greeting.

"You look like the dog drug you around the yard today."

Maka looked down at her filthy hands and splintered nails.

"I had one of the hands bring me up a bucket of fresh water earlier, you looked so ragged I figured you needed a good scrubbing."

"Tubaki, you're an angel." Maka sighed as eyed the bucket greedily.

Tsubaki laughed softly. "I don't know about an angel, but I reckon you needed a small kindness today. Lord know this whole farce hasn't been easy for you."

Maka nodded as she stuck a finger in the water bucket. It felt like ice but the thought of washing some of the days grime off was too tempting.

"I'm going to step out and let you wash real quick. I'll make us some chamomile tea and a snack and be back in a jiffy."

Maka shot her a greatfully smile. If she wasn't so dirty she might have even hugged the woman.

Once the door shut behind her Maka unbuttoned her too big shirt and let it slide halfway around her hips. She grabbed the rag that sat on the buckets lip and dunked it into the water.

Her skin pricked with goose flesh as she ran the wet rag across her arms and neck. The water was chilly, but her aching muscles rejoiced at the feel.

Maka scrubbed as best she could with her bucket and rag, before she gingerly went over her ribs.

The raw flesh from her chest binding seared painfully as she dabbed it gently.

Without knocking, Tsubaki walked briskly in, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of sweet biscuits.

"Lord have mercy hun! What did you do to your skin?!" Tsubaki half whisper yelled.

She set the tray down on the table and leaned in to examine the red welts on Maka's back and sides.

Back in England Maka would have been embarrassed to show so much skin in front of another person, but oddly she didn't mind a bit.

Possibly she was too tired to care, too hurt to feel abashed, or maybe, this wild place with its unorthodox people was slowly starting to free her of high society's social norms.

The realization of this ever growing freedom was intoxicating.

If she wasn't careful though she would eventually end up with no shame at all.

Her poor parents were no doubt rolling in their graves at her wild ways.

Without a word Tsubaki hustled over to her chest of drawers and began rummaging until she produced two small tins.

"Ta da! I've got some salve for those raw places to help heal and a tin of burnt flour. Just sprinkle a little bit in your binding before you wrap yourself."

"Burnt flour?" Maka asked eyeing the tin.

"Its not a fancy corset talc like you probably used in England, but around here it's the best thing to stop chafing.

"Its perfect Tsubaki, thank you so much." Maka couldn't keep the wobble from her voice. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Tsubaki smiled kindly at her as she unscrewed the lid on the salve. "Here hun, let me get your back, unless you can reach?"

"No, please do."

Gently Tsubaki applied salve around the edges of her binding.

Maka sucked in a sharp breath as it began to sting. Slowly though, the fierce pain began to subside into a numb tingle.

Tsubaki worked quietly, her hands skilled at her craft.

"You're very good at this." Maka remarked.

"I've had a good deal of practice doctoring up the cowboys around here. They're always hurting themselves. Sometimes it's from hard work, sometimes its from stupidity."

Maka laughed, but stopped short at the stabbing pain in her ribs.

"You must have strained a muscle while doing your chores today." Maka grunted in reply. "If you can call that chores. I feel more like a workhorse than anything."

Tsubaki worried her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes concerned "Hun, can I ask why you're doing this?"

"Because Mr. Evans is a downright scoundrel! He's working me to the bone, but I have to listen to him, because some unknown godly reason he's in charge around here."

Tsubaki stifled a small giggle. "No hun, I wasn't talking about Soul."

"Oh, of course not." Maka blushed fiercely.

She was thankful the room was only half alight.

"No, I mean why are you here hun? Pretending to be a man? Surely you'd rather be back in England and not here in this dust bowl?"

"Maka took a deep breath, wondering how best to explain herself. She had kept her secret for so long now, it felt almost wrong to say it out loud.

"I... I have nowhere else to go Tsubaki. There is nothing waiting for me back in England."

"Not even family?" Tsubaki asked quietly.

Maka shook her head. "Stein is my only remaining family. My parents are both passed now and my friends in England wouldn't even speak to me after the disgrace my Papa brought to the family. Once we lost our fortune I quickly realized just how alone I truly was."

Tsubaki reached out and squeezed Maka's hand. It was such a small gesture, but Maka smiled greatfully.

"It sound like you've traveled a hard road to get here hun, and I respect the hell out of you for it. But I hope you know... being here, pretending to be something that your not. It's going to be a hard road in it's own right."

"I know, but I have to try." Maka let out a long pent up breath. "In his letter he specifically said women had no place on the ranch. What else was I to do? I know it's horrible to lie to everyone about my gender, but I'm desperate. Am I wrong to do so?"

"No, hun I don't think you are in the wrong. You were forced into this situation, all because of a pig headed decision made by a grumpy old man."

"Is there no changing his mind then? I was hoping to speak to my uncle when he returned. I was hoping deep down that he would accept me after we finally met."

Tsubaki shook her head sadly. I'm afraid not, he's never broken his rule, except for me and I was a very rare situation."

"How so?"

Tsubaki's eyes had a far off glint that shone in the candle light. Whatever she was thinking of, it was another lifetime ago.

"That's a very long story, and I don't know if I have the courage to go over it tonight. We will speak about it another time though, I promise."

Maka squeezed the other women's hand and nodded. Whatever her story was, it was something she didn't like speaking about. Maka hoped after more time together this woman with her far off eyes and gentle spirit would open up to her.

Until then she wouldn't pry further.

Tsubaki squeezes back and smiles half heartedly. "I"m very blessed to live here and I respect your uncle more than anyone, but his rules about women are silly. We will figure out some way to make him acccept you, even if you are a woman."

"Why is my uncle so callous towards woman in the first place?"

Tsubaki shrugs her delicate shoulders. "I'm not very sure to be honest. All I know is that long before my time here, something dreadful happened to him. Some say it was his mother who abandoned him as a child and ran off with another man. Others say it was a woman he loved who broke his heart and he never truly recovered from it. Whatever the reason he still refuses to talk about it to this day."

Maka walked to the window and gazed out at into the night; the moon was full and it flooded the yard with soft pale light. She tried to absorb the information she had recieved about her uncle. Slowly she was piecing together who he was as a person. So far she didn't know if she liked him or hated him.

After a minute she spoke, her breath fogging up the glass pane window. "I can understand why he's so bitter towards women, but can he really turn away his own flesh and blood because of my gender?"

Tsubaki sighs as she lights another candle. "His feeling go far beyond just bitterness, his prejudice goes so much deeper than just gender I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?" Maka asked, turning away from the window.

Tsubaki's suddenly somber mood unsettled Maka deeply.

"Its not just woman he has a problem with, it's affection and courting that he really can't stomach. He forbids it here on the ranch."

Maka sucks in a sharp breathe. "How can that be?"

"Its true I'm afraid." Tsubaki pauses as her voice on the verge of cracking. "He has no give when it come to courting."

_Just what kind of person was her uncle? _

_To refuse people in love?_

A single tear, slid down Tsubaki's face. It caught in the lamp light leaving a silver trail of stardust across her pale cheek.

Maka gasped in disbelief.

_Why was Tsubaki crying?!_

Unwittingly fragments from breakfast came back to her. The lingering glances, the quiet moments, and soft smiles shared over cinnamon buns and coffee. The way Black Star had lingered in the doorway and Tsubaki had clutched the spatula in her hands as he left.

Tsubaki and Black Star... they were too afraid to say it out loud.

They were keeping their true feelings locked up tight, for no one else to see.

"This is a catastrophe!" Maka burst out then slapped a hand over her mouth.

Tsubaki partly giggled, partly sniffled as Maka's wide eyes swiveled to the door.

"No worries hun, Soul sleeps like the dead most nights."

"I've never heard such rubbish in all my life. It's an infringement of rights, a bloody injustice!" Maka whisper yelled.

Tsubaki smiles softly as she swats away the last trace of water from her cheek.

"You sound down right extra British when you're angry."

Maka scowled, but she couldn't deny her observation.

Since she had come to America she had tried her hardest to fit in, including her speech habits, but deep down to her very core she was still undeniably British.

Maka patted Tsubaki'a shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm just upset on your behalf."

"My behalf?"

"Yes, I know this must be hard on you and Black Star."

Tsubaki goes ghostsly pale at the mention of his name, her hands twisting in the folds of her skirt.

"Oh no hun, you've got it all wrong. Me and Blastar... we're just friends of sorts. Nothing more nothing less. I've known him most of my life. To fall in love with him would be... a foolish thing."

Maka searches the young women's features for signs of jesting, but if anything her face is set in firm resolve.

She was serious.

Surely Maka hadn't imagined their tender interactions?

Thinking back to earlier she was almost positive she had caught a glimpse of something there.

The look on Black Stars face as he went out the door had definitely been one of longing.

So why was Tsubaki denying it now?

Unless she was frightened?

A cold sens of dread washed over Maka and settled into her base of her spine.

"Tsubaki? What exactly happens to the people who end up courting or falling in love here?"

"Well, Stein has always sent them packing."

"You mean he kicks them off the ranch?!"

Tubaki nods.

"We've lost quite a few cow hands over the years to his silly rule. In the past if a cowhand started courting a gal from town or a neighboring ranch they'd do it in secret. But this is a small town and Stein somehow always gets wind of it. He'd give em' two options, quit the courting, or hit the road. More often than not the cowboys would choose their sweetheart and leave and find work else where."

So that was it, why Tsubaki looked so panicked at the mention of Black Star's name.

She was concerned about him keeping his job and home.

She was putting his well being above her own true feelings.

Surprised by her own boldness Maka gave Tsubaki an impulsive hug.

"You have the biggest heart Tsubaki."

Tsubaki smiled and hugged her in return.

"I promise to keep your secrets like you have mine."

They broke apart and smiled shyly at each other.

"I'm sorry for the hardships you've gone through hun, but I'm really glad you're here. It's going to be down right nice having another woman around. Even if you aren't in a petticoat!"

Maka smothered a giggle with her hand.

"Petticoats are daft anyways, I'll take trousers anyday."

Somewhere in the house a clock chimed out the arrival of midnight and Tubaki let loose a wide yawn.

"It's getting late, we should probably hit the hay."

"I still have so many questions though." Maka sighed.

"They can wait for a bit. Soul working you to death tomorrow won't."

"Ugh please don't remind me. That man is going to show up in my nightmares tonight"

Tsubaki muffled her laughter with the back of her hand.

"Do your best and give him hell tomorrow."

"I'll try my best! Good night Tsubaki... and thank you again for everything."

"Good night hun, sleep well."

Tsubaki blew out her last candle and Maka slowly tip toed back to her room through silent hallways.

It had been a strange night, but both of their sporots felt a little lighter.

Sharing of one's secrets had a way of lifting the heaviness from the heart.

Two woman had formed an unspoken bond tonight. One woman in a night gown with her beautiful raven hair down and the other in mens trousers, with her hair shorn off, and blisters on her hands.

Both very different, yet both also the same.

They were women, and they would stick together, against all the odds.


	17. Burning coffee and bitter words

At dawn, somewhere down in the yard, a rooster crowed.

This was no ordinary declaration of morning though.

This rooster was plucky, prideful, and he ruled the nest.

And bloody hell he was ready to let the world know it!

He was probably the loudest rooster Maka had ever had the misfortune of hearing.

He was squawking good morning to the whole world. Only... it wasn't really a good morning for Maka.

Everything hurt. Her arms, legs, back, neck. Was it even possible for her eyelashes to hurt too?

Maka groaned loudly as she threw the covers off. She needed to get up. Soul hadn't barged into her room since the last time, but she didn't trust him. If he thre he thre her out of bed this morning she would have probably stayed on the floor in a boneless heap.

She tried to move, but failed. She couldn't even jackknife into a sitting position. Instead, she slid out of bed, like a limp noodle to the floor.

After carefully rubbing salve on and dusting her binding with the burnt flour, she wrapped herself up tight and struggled into a shirt.

Lifting her legs into her trousers made her muscles quiver and strain.

Once dressed she hobbled down the hallway and stopped at the stairwell. It was doing to take a pure miracle to make it down without falling.

Taking a deep breath she inched her way down, all the while keeping an eye out for fright train Evans.

Despite her caution it ended up being not needed. He was already at the breakfast table, reading the paper and drinking coffee.

He looked so normal sitting there, his face and hair freshly washed, dressed in a crisp blue button down.

He seemed deep in thought as he read, his intelligent eyes scanning. He could have been considered handsome even if one tried really hard to look past his personality.

Maka knew better though...

Above those eyes, hidden beneath the white scruff of his hair he probably had permanent frown lines etched between his brows. The way he always scowled had Maka convinced.

There was nothing normal about the surly cowboy sitting at the table.

As if on que he glanced up from his paper and gave her a sour look. "Kid, you look like shit this morning."

"Thank you, I hadn't noticed." Maka huffed as she gingerly eased onto her chair.

She tried hard not to grimace as her muscles protested.

He must have noticed though because he gave her a knowing look.

"You hurtin' kid?"

His wry tone made her head shoot up. She didn't want him to think her weak.

"No, it's nothing I can't handle."

Her answer must have pleased him, that or he just didn't have any brassy comebacks this early.

He half grinned and went back to reading his paper quietly.

Tsubaki bustled in from the kitchen, the smell of cinnamon buns following her.

The smell made Maka think of yesterdays visit with her and Black Star.

Being a hopeless romantic, she secretly hoped they had spent the wee hours of the morning together, sharing sweet cinnamon treats and shy smiles.

Maka smiled kindly at Tsubaki as she set a plate of food and a big steaming cup of coffee down infront of her.

Tsubaki smiled in return.

"Mornin hun, drink up that coffee before it gets cold."

Maka who didn't much care for the way Americans drank their coffee black and bitter none the less snatched up her mug with great zeal this morning.

If she was going to survive the day she needed every ounce of caffeine she could get. Lord only knew what Soul had in plan for her today.

She took a big gulp and it scalded every bit of her mouth.

Heavy heat coursed through her veins... Only it wasn't the normal heat from coffee.

She set the mug down on the table with a loud thump as she sucked in a sharp breath.

"I'm sorry hun, is the coffee too hot?" Tsubaki winked at her from behind Soul's line of sight.

On rare occasions back home, unbeknown to her papa she had stolen a few sips of watered-down wine from her friends at parties. Otherwise, Maka had never been very keen on drinking.

Whatever Tsubaki had secretly added to her coffee could melt steel.

Tsubaki had the audacity to look very pleased with herself.

Odd, though, that one mouthful made her feel warm all over and muted the streaks of pain she'd been suffering.

She took another tentative sip, willing to try anything to relieve the aches.

It tasted horrible, but she fought against the fumes that tried to make her eyes water.

Every sip seemed to relax her body more and more.

"Thank you." Maka mouthed quietly to Tsubaki who sat down next to her.

Tsubaki threw her a quick sly smile and turned to her own plate of food.

"Better eat up kid. We've got a full day's work ahead of us." Soul gruffed as he set his paper down.

Afraid she couldn't hold her fork and knife steady with her shakey limbs Maka decided to abandoned all modesty and etiquette.

She slid her egg and bacon onto her toast, picked it up with her bare hands, and crammed a good sized portion into her mouth.

Soul looked up from his own food with astonishment and his mouth slightly agape.

_Good_.

She rather enjoyed being able to bewilder the man.

"I thought I'd take a note out of your book of cowboy wisdom."

She smiled at him cheekily, her mouth full of egg.

She didn't even care if it was rude.

He chuckled softly and rolled his eyes, but left her alone.

Obviously if you wanted to stay on his good side all it took was a days worth of sore muscles and eating like a wild heathen.

_She could do that. _

She couldn't contain her mirth so she smiled down into her egg sandwich, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Tiny victories.

* * *

After breakfast Soul took her straight out behind the house to the garden plot.

There were several horses tethered in the area, all peacefully munching grass.

Soul tried to ignore the groan of protest Maka made at the sight. The ground was covered in steaming horse piles.

Soul gave the kid a sideways glance. The look on the kid's face was thoroughly entertaining.

"You don't want grass growing in the garden. It'll choke out whatever Tsubaki plants here. You're looking at the best way to get rid of unwanted grass, plus now you don't have to haul over any manure. It's freshly delivered."

The kid gave him a dubious look. "I suppose I should be thankful for that time saving trick?"

"You're catching on."

The kid wrinkled up his tiny nose, but didn't complain.

Maybe there was hope for him yet.

"What am I supposed to do now Mr. Evans, spread it around?"

The kid punctuated his last name heavily and with an accent.

The little shit knew he hated being called by his last name, yet he continued to do it.

It was meant to rile him up, and by George it did. Though he'd never admit it to the kid.

Instead he shrugged it off with a flash of his canines. That usually bothered people, but the kid didn't seem to take notice like most people did by his strange appearance.

_Whatever_.

"No kid, you're going to be plowing all that manure into the ground." He pointed toward the barn where Black star and Justin were unloading a monstrous peice of metal from the wagon.

The kid looked intrigued and started that way to get a better look at it. As they walked Soul noticed that the kid was moving a little stiffly.

_ Good_.

At least he wasn't fluttering about anymore.

A few more weeks of hard labor would continue to improve his muscles.

The kid had actually eaten with gusto today, instead of just picking at his food and barley eating. That was a big improvement in Soul's opinion.

"Oh very impressive! Is it ours?" The kid ran his hand lightly over the plow.

Soul didn't like how the he used the word 'our', like he was implying his stake on something. The kid had only been here a few days and he was already taking ownership of Forsaken.

Soul frowned down at the kid and shook his head.

"No, this plow belongs the the Thompsons. We raise cattle here more than vegetables, but they're kind enough to let us use it twice a year."

"The Thompsons?"

"They're our closest neighbors, a few miles to the east of us."

"I didn't think we had neighbors near by."

Both Black Star and Justin snickered.

"I wouldn't call them neighbors." Black Star chuckled.

Justin who was normally a very quiet man nodded his head enthusiastically. "They're more like bears."

"Or vultures." Black Star chimed in.

Soul shot them a heavy warning glance and they both stopped their jeering.

Black Star scurried inside the barn and Justin cleared his throat before trotting over to the garden plot to untethered the horses.

"Is there something wrong with our neighbors?" The kid asked, his head cocking to the side.

"No. Well, maybe. They're just a little too friendly sometimes."

The kid threw him a perplexed look that made him feel uneasy.

Sure he wasn't explaining himself very well, but the kid didn't have to look so damned judgmental.

"I'm returning the plow to the Thompsons after we're done with it. You'll be joining me, so you'll have the pleasure of meeting them yourself."

The kid's green eyes lit up at that.

"It'd be nice to take a trip. Even if it's just up the road."

"Yeah, why's that?"

"After traveling so much in the last month I've gotten quite the taste for it. Before now I'd never left London, not even once. I've lived in the same home and grew up on the same estate my whole life. So it's nice to get out and see these new places."

Soul frowned at that. "That's no way to live kid."

Then kid had the gall to look offended. "Its not like a had a choice in the matter."

"Kid everyone has a choice. It sounds like you were just too coddled. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth and there was no need for you to leave. Why leave when you were born with everything?"

The kid's face turned a bright shade of red.

"You know nothing about my life!" His voice cracked an octave higher. "Not everyone can just leave their home and family. That's absurd. Who the bloody hell does that?"

"I did." Soul spat, his own anger rising. "And I'd go back and do it again."

The kid opened his mouth to say something, then clamped it shut.

_Shit_.

Had he really just said that outloud?

The last thing he wanted to talk about with Fancy Pants was his childhood.

This spoiled English brat had an uncanny way of making him say the dumbest shit sometimes.

He glared at the kid and his stupid immature face.

This kid was born wealthy, and for that he could almost hate him.

The kid would never understand people like himself who had to fight and sweat through life for everything.

Soul continued to hold his gaze, almost daring him to ask more questions.

Luckily the kid seemed to have the common sense not to broach the topic futher.

After a long uncomfortable silence Black star shambled back with a stocky mare in tow.

"Did I miss something boss?"

"No." Soul barked as he swiped the reins from Black stars hands.

C'mon kid. We've gorbwork to do."

* * *

Unknowingly she had made a huge mistake.

She could see it in the set of his rigid shoulders and his contemptuous gaze.

Obviously she had struck a nerve. A big one.

She had wanted so badly to ask him more about his family, or to at least apologize.

Although she didn't know what to apologize for...

He was the one who had brought it up. Not her.

Still, she bit her tongue, wanting to avoid any more of his dagger sharp looks.

Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut?

She had made so much progress with him this morning, they had been quite civil at breakfast.

Any sign of commodity or acceptance was now gone... if it had even been there in the first place.

Three steps forward, five steps back.


	18. Family

"Come here fancy pants, let me show you how to hook up the plow."

Maka eased herself next to the broody cowboy. Close enough to watch, but not close enough to invade his space.

They stood next the the sturdy plow mare, who nibbled grass happily while waiting.

Maka watched closely as he pulled and cinched various loops and belts into the leather harness.

His hands were proficient and skillful.

Even though Maka rather rued the day she met him, she had to admit that he knew a lot of things she didn't.

He was rude and arrogant, but she could learn from him. He was worth studying more than any book she could find on western living.

"What are you lookin' at kid?"

Maka looked away hastily. "Nothing."

She hadn't realized how hard she had been staring at him.

"Are you even paying attention kid?"

"Um yes, I would like to try it now."

He scoffs, but takes a step back, making room for her to try.

Being an avid rider Maka had saddled many horses in her life, but a harness was completely foriegn to her.

Why were there so many straps and buckles?

"Nope, try again."

His breath tickled the back of her neck. Maka almost jumped out of her own skin.

When had he leaned in so close?

"Like this?" Maka asked, willing her body not to tense at his close proximity.

"No, let me show you. You can't be gentle with it." His voice is raspy and confident.

He shoulders into her further as he begins to work the leather. "Hand me that D ring down by the withers would ya?"

Maka obliges, all the while hoping he can't hear her heart racing.

Was it possible for him to see through her disguise being this close?

Maka desperately hoped not.

Soul drops down to his haunches and reaches under the horse's belly for another strap.

He bends his head to the task, the fringe of his white hair ghosting across her exposed arm.

"Get down here and help me fancy pants."

"Yes!" Maka tries not to squeak but fails.

He gives her a sideways look, but doesn't say a word.

They work quietly together for awhile, which Maka is thankful for.

She noticed her hands looked so diminutive next to his work hardened ones.

The back of his knuckles graze her own as he hands her another buckle.

Maka sucks in a startled breath and almost drops the whole thing on her foot.

"You sure are clumsy kid, maybe you should concentrate more." He drawls.

Maka swipes the strap from his hand, her face burning red hot.

"You sure are bossy Evans, maybe you should relax more."

Soul tilts his head back and laughs.

He laughs so hard that Maka is stunned speechless.

Even Black Star looks thunderstruck at the sound.

Maka holds her breath as she listens to the sound, her chest feeling oddly tight.

When he finally quiets down to a few stray chuckles he turns and smirks. "That's more like it kid. I've been waiting for you to grow a pair. Seems you're more bull than steer after all."

Maka gives him a vexed look.

Why did this cowboy always have to speak in vulgar analogies?

Soul elbows her and flashes her a dazzling smile, and once again she is struck by a bout of breathlessness.

Whatever alcohol Tsubaki had given her for breakfast must have been more potent than she originally thought.

Why else would she be feeling so warm and light headed?

Or maybe she was just losing her bloody mind...

Soul slaps the last strap into place and pats the mare fondly. His mood has improved and for that Maka is thankful.

Even if he's laughing and acting stange.

She chooses not to question it further, at least he wasn't brooding or being rude at the moment.

As they finished up with the harness and plow, Justin moved the last of the horses from the garden plot back to the barn, leaving the field barren once more.

"Alright let's get this thing going. I'll show you once, so pay attention this time." His voice was borderline teasing, instead of having it's normal harsh bite.

He took the plow firmly by the handles and threw the mare's reins over his right shoulder.

Soul made a clicking sound with his tongue and the mare lurched forward.

Everyone gathered around for a few minutes to watch as Soul gave her a lesson in breaking the earth.

Black Star looked amused, Justin watched silent as usual, and little Tad appeared from out of nowhere, his face dirty and his eyes bright. "What have you been up to little Tadpole?" Maka asked, taking in the boy's dirty appearance. "Minding my own business, that's what!" He exclaimed, puffing his little chest out.

Black Star removed his hat and promptly smacked the boy in the back of the head with it. "Mund your tone, English here deserves your respect." Tadpole scowled fiercely at the two of them then stuck his tongue out before running behind the barn. "What's the matter with him?" Maka asked as she watched the boy dissapear.

"Hes just wild. He'll grow out of it eventually."

"Black Star! Stop distracting the kid with your yappin!" Soul barked as he trudged being the plow.

"Sorry boss!"

Black Star gave her a slow wink. "We wouldn't want you missing any wisdom the boss is giving out, would we?"

Maka grinned as she turned her attention back to Soul.

"Keep the plow tip in the ground. Don't jam it straight down. Keep it at an angle. The soil turns right over."

He leaned his weight forward and the spade burrowed deep into the ground. As he walked the ground churned into a long row of rich dark soil.

Soul made two wide passes with the plow then halted in front of her.

"Here kid, you try now."

Maka nodded and took a deep breath to steel herself.

So many eye were watching her again.

She started at a slow pace, concentrating on the mare in front of her.

"Put more of your weight into it. Keep the reins over your shoulder and talk to the horse. Guide the plow, and there you go." Soul called out as he walked the length of the furrow.

"And for the love of God, keep the furrows straight. Tsubaki doesn't want her garden rows to look like a drunkard plowed it!"

"It would serve her right." Maka muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing!"

Maka pushed forward, trying to ignore the mushy spots she trudged through. She told herself it was only mud, but the smell was too horrid to pretend otherwise.

When she came to the end of the row she halted the mare and looked back at her handiwork.

"It looks like a winding adder snake." She sighed.

Soul coughed to cover his own laugh at her observation.

He'd thought the same thing, though he didn't know what an adder snake was.

Actually there was a lot about this kid's contry that he didn't know.

For a split second Soul almost felt bad about it, the kid was here trying his best to learn, yet he himself was just as ignorant.

Maybe it was time for him to get to know the kid and his culture a little better too.

He could still train the kid hard to prepare him for Stein's inspection, but he could also sit down with the kid and maybe learn something in return.

"Keep going kid, the only way to get better is to practice. You've got all day to do it."

Maka clicked her tongue and tried to slap the reins. She lost hold of the plow handles though and her feet gave way on the slick ground. She went face first into the squelching mud. She sat up quickly and tried to wipe the mud from her eyes.

It was no use though, she seemed to be smearing it even worse.

All around her male laughter rang out. She couldn't see them, but she knew it was the other cowboys who had drifted in to watch.

Maka sighed heavily, wishing that the muck she sat in would finish the job and swallow her whole.

Anything to escape the embarrassment.

The men continued to crow until Soul's voice cut through the noise.

"That's enough! Isn't there work to do elsewhere? If not, I'm sure I could find something for y'all to do."

The men muffled their laughter, the sound of their shuffling feet signaling their retreat.

"Here kid, use this."

His voice was so very close as he pushed something soft into her hand.

"Wipe your eyes."

Maka did as she was told. It took a few tried, but she finally scrubbed the muck off. Her eyes stung something fierce, but she was able to see again.

Soul nelt next to her, his face showing a hint of amusement.

Clutched in her hands was a peice of cloth he had given her.

Had he offered her his hankier-cheif?

It was probably the most gentlemanly act he had shown since their meeting.

Maka felt oddly touched by the small gesture.

Maybe he wasn't a complete scoundrel.

"I thought you looked like shit earlier kid, but you definitely do now. I think it suits you."

Maka scowls at him, but all it does is make him laugh harder.

Maka silently takes back her earlier sentiment, the man is definitely a down right scoundrel. But she has to admit it befits him.

His laughter is contagious, and she can't help it when her scowl turns into a smile.

* * *

Soul had left soon after that, muttering something about cows.

He has saddled up a snappy looking pinto and road off through the fields and out of sight.

Maka had mixed feeling about him leaving.

She wanted him to stay and give her more guidance, but secretly she was also a little relieved he was gone.

He was always a lot to handle.

He made her nervous sometimes, and she couldn't work under his piercing stare without forgetting to breath.

With him gone, she could focus on the task at hand.

So far it had not been going great.

Maka had practically got pulled right over the plow twice already, and by the time she got to the end of that row, she knew she was in deep trouble.

She didn't have the strength the job required.

She didn't have the weight to keep the spade tip in the ground.

She also didn't have the arm span. The winged arms of the plow splayed so far apart, her hands barely reached them.

She stood in the middle of a huge, stinky, mushy horse patty and surveyed the zigzagging furrow she'd dug in the ground.

Swallowing hard, she then looked at the plow.

"Stupid men. And their stupid tools."

Maka took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind.

There had to be another way.

Men rely greatly on their strength, which is something she was lacking in. If she couldn't use brute strength, then she would have to use her mind.

Her boots made a sucking noise as she tromped out of the plot toward the barn. Black Star was inside, his head bent to his task of mending a rope halter.

"Do you by any chance have some extra rope?" Maka inquired.

Black Star grunted, but never took his eyes off his work.

"Yeah you can have this extra bit or rope, it's too short for me to use anyways."

"What about a bucket?"

"A bucket? There's an old feed bucket in the back."

Black Star's hands stilled as he looked up, his moss colored eyes going wide.

"What in Sam Hill do you need a bucket and rope for? You ain't plannin' on hanging yourself are you?"

Maka rolled her eyes. "No of course not, it's for the plow."

"Phew! I thought for a minute you were finally getting tired of Soul's shit."

"So the obvious reaction is to hang myself?"

"Soul has a way of aggravating people something fierce. I figured it was only a matter of time before he drove someone crazy enough." Black Star snickers.

"That or people have contemplated strangling Soul with a rope instead."

"That I can believe." Maka couldn't help but imagine throttling Soul a good one.

It was oddly satisfying.

"That's a pure evil look you've for on your face English. Should I warn Soul to not be left alone with you?"

Black Star grinned, and Maka returned it.

"Possibly."

Black Star cackled as Maka went in search for her grain bucket. Once found, she left Black Star to his work and walked back to hers.

Her limp was much improved, the liquid heat Tsubaki had doused her cup with had worked wonders for her sore muscles. She just wished she hadn't felt so warm and flustered earlier, especially in front of Soul.

She felt heated just thinking about it now.

She had to work on her nerves around him.

She was an Albarn for bloody sake!

Albarns were clever, not push overs.

She might be out of her element here, but that was no excuse to be flighty or get overwhelmed.

As Maka tied her rope to the plow she vowed to herself, standing in that stinking plot of earth, under that big blue sky, that her resolve would not waver.

Not for anyone.

Especially for a certain grumpy crimson eyed cowboy.

* * *

Maka took her rope and tied it around the plow handles, then she hung the bucket in the middle. She next searched for the heaviest stones she could find, which wasn't hard to find; the ground practically grew them in this plot.

She then tossed them into the bucket until it was full and straining downward agaisnt the rope.

As she took up the reins once more she leaned all of her weight into the rope as well.

Maka was delighted to see the added weight made the spade sink deep into the soil.

By the fourth row, she'd learned to lean her weight to counterbalance enough to keep the rows passably straight.

It was a small victory, but she felt proud.

"Would you like some lunch hun?!" Tsubaki called out from the back porch.

"Yes, please! I'm famished." Maka called back as she slowed the plow.

Tsubaki brought out a small picnic basket and a pitcher of lemonade with her.

Maka dusted off her hands as best she could on her trousers. Surprisingly eating with dirty hands didn't bother like it should have, another sign she was turning native very fast.

They sat down under an oak tree near the soon to be garden. Its shade was expansive and it brought them some relief from the sun. It seemed that their springs here were much warmer than in England, a fact that Maka was glad for. She never had liked the cold, she preferred sunshine and clear skies.

Tsubaki had packed quite the little feast for them and Maka's mouth watered at the sight.

Delicately wrapped sandwiches, cold cuts, left over biscuits from breakfast smothered in fresh butter, and straight from the oven, warm, melt in your mouth cookies. There was so much food that Maka wondered if maybe some of it was for someone else.

Sure enough Tsubaki's beautiful eyes scanned the area hopefully.

They lit up brighter when Black Star walked out of the barn.

Maka threw Tsubaki a knowing look.

"Should we invite him over to join us?"

"Oh heavens no!" Tsubaki squeaked. "It wouldn't be proper, anyone could see us together." Her voice was unsure, but Maka could see the wistfully tilt of her face as she gazed across at him.

"It wouldn't be unsightly for three good friends to sit and eat lunch together would it?" Maka waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Tsubaki actually blushed a deep pink, a stark contrast to her porcelain skin.

Maka couldn't help but giggle, which she promptly covered up rather poorly with a cough.

The last thing she needed was to get caught laughing like a woman.

"Black Star! Come have lunch with us! We have entirely too much food!" Maka shouted.

Black Star grinned from ear to ear and trotted over.

"Hey English, mighty fine of you to share your lunch with me."

He slugs her on the shoulder as he sinks down onto the grass to join them.

"Afternoon miss." He tips his hat to Tsubaki, his gaze lingering longer than necessary.

Tsubaki smiles sweetly in return.

Maka feels as if she is getting cavities just looking at them, but she feels absolutely happy for them, and in the same breath undeniable saddness for their forced situation.

Justin and little Tad's voices carry across the yard as they work somewhere close by. They are nowhere to be seen, but it's enough to break the spell between the two. They become instantly guarded, their faces once more relaxing into aloofness.

It happens so effortlessly that Maka can't help but wonder how long it's been like this between the two.

_ Months? Maybe Years? _

It's something she is curious to ask Tsubaki about if they ever get another private moment together.

The three of them sit together under the expansive sky, sharing food, stories, and easy laughter.

Black Star and Tsubaki don't dare sit next to one another, but their eyes are always drifting to the other, and the smiles they share are soft and knowing.

They ask her questions about England, and she asks questions about Texas. It's idle chatter to the common eye, but it's also something very special.

For the first time in a very long time, Maka feels truly at ease.

These two people, who she hasn't even known for a great amount of time, have become very dear to her. With their friendly smiles, and encouragement, they are already becoming more than just friends.

It's a notion that steals her breath away and causes her heart to ache in that happy, yet unexplainable kind of way.

These two, are becoming her family.


	19. Indecent?

After lunch everyone felt reluctant to leave the shelter of the big oak tree.

It had been great food and company.

It was enough to make even Black Star hesitant to leave.

He helped Tsubaki pack up the picnic basket, both taking their time. Maka could tell that they were savoring ever moment they had together.

"If ya want, I could carry the basket back to the house for you?" Black star asked.

His request was a simple one, but under his calm tone there was an underlying sadness.

He wasn't ready to part ways with her yet.

Tsubaki half smiled and shook her head. "Thank you, but I can manage."

She picked up the basket and turned to leave. Maka noticed Black Star was trying not to look too disappointed, and failing miserably at it, like sone one had kicked him in the stomach.

Tsubaki stopped and turned back towards them, a beautiful smile on her face.

"We should do this again soon though, it was nice to spend time with the both of you."

Her eyes held Black Star's intently and he grinned back at her like a lovesick fool.

"Any time, miss Tsubaki. It's always a pleasure."

Tsubaki hastily spun around, her cheeks flaming brightly.

Maka couldn't help but smile at Tsubaki's retreating figure.

Maka had no idea what to expect when she finally met her uncle, but seeing her two new friends so miserable made her secretly hate him.

She had to find a way to change her uncle's mind about love.

The question was how though?

Luckily she had a few months to think it over before he came back.

Black Star stretched his legs out and patted his full belly contentedly. "That was some mighty fine chow, huh English?"

Maka nodded in agreement. "Tsubaki sure is a wonderful lady."

Black Star smiled softly, but didn't reply.

They sat in comfortable silence for a time, the only sound being bird song and the lowing of distant cattle.

It was peaceful.

Black Star stood and stretched his arms out wide. "I'm all for goofing off, but we should get back to work before the boss shows back up. I'd hate for him to fly into a rage and send you back to england."

Maka suppressed a shudder at that.

Soul showing up and seeing her lounging under a tree was the last thing she wanted. He probably wouldn't take too kindly to seeing a job only half done.

Maka stood up, every bone in her body creaking loudly.

Black Star smirked at the sound. "Dont worry English, you're body will get use to the physical labor eventually."

"Hopefully before I keel over from exhaustion."

Black Star laughs as they part ways, him back to the barn and her back to the field.

The rest of the day Maka gives it her all, her pride the only thing driving her forward on shakey legs.

She would not give Soul the chance to criticize her work, not today.

As the sun slowly began to sink in the west and the sky burned brilliantly with orange and crimson streaks, a lone rider rode into the barn yard.

He dismounted his horse in one swift motion and walked towards her, his stride relaxed but purposeful.

His hair was stained the color of the fading sunset and his eyes rivaled even the deepest of reds in the sky.

It struck Maka that she had never seen such a man as him. Not in London, not in the sea ports, train stations, or any of the new places she had traveled. He was an odd specimen, and she imagined that even if she traveled the whole world, she would never meet another man like him.

"You sure space out a lot kid." He smirks as he leans casually against a fence post.

Maka rolls her eyes in response. "Maybe I was just occupied in my thoughts."

"Oh ho, is that so? Well don't go thinking too deep, you're face is bound to get stuck like that."

"My face? What's wrong with my face?"

"You get these wrinkles on your face when you're thinking too hard."

Without thinking Maka's hands shoot up to touch her cheeks and forehead, but in the process she end up smearing more mud across her face.

Soul laughs and Maka glares at him.

_The audacity of this man. _

Once again without thinking Maka stoops down and grabs a lumpy fist full of earth and launches it at his stupid face.

Soul deftly dodges the flying mud ball, and flashes her a smug smile. "You aim like a girl."

Maka doesn't know what has come over her, has she really stooped this low?

But at the moment, wiping that smug look off is face is her greatest desire.

She snatches up two more fistfuls and throws them as hard as she can.

He actually has the nerve to laugh as he side steps every single one.

Frustrated that her every move is being so easily thwarted Maka changes tactics and rushes forward to gain the element of surprise.

It works, the look of shock on his face is enough to make her laugh.

He backs up quickly, trying to retreat, but his footing slips and he falls flat on his back with a giant splat.

Maka puts her hands on her knees and doubles over with laughter, tears streaming down her face

The high and mighty Soul has fallen and the victory is sweet.

Maka's laughter falls short as he lays there in a motionless heap, his arms and legs sprawled out, and his eyes closed.

_Bloody hell, I've killed him!_

Maka rushes to his side. "Mr. Evans? Are you alright? " she asks as she leans over his still body.

His eyes snap open and he flaunts a devilish grin.

Maka's heart stops instantly, she knows what's coming...

His hand is lightening quick as he clamps it around her forearm and drags her down.

She lands with a hard whack into the mushy earth.

The breath instantly leaves her body and she is now covered in sticky warm mud.

Maka props up on her elbows and shoots the laughing cowboy a scowl.

"You sir, are a rogue."

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've ever been called."

He closes his eyes as his amusement continues to bubble out.

"And it's probably a true statement."

Maka tries her best to glower, but hearing this man laugh has once again caught her off guard.

That's twice in one day she's heard this serious cowboy laugh, when just yesterday she was almost certain he was incapable of it.

Surely the end of the world is nigh upon them for such an unthinkable thing to happen.

But against her better judgment, she can't help but join along with him. She tosses her head back, face up towards the fading light of evening, and it feels so very freeing to laugh with him.

* * *

"Didn't you two hear me calling ya for dinner?" Tsubaki's sweet face appears above them, blocking the view of the fading sky.

"What in God's name happened to you two?"

"Don't ask." Soul groans as he rolls onto his side.

"Did you mention dinner? I could eat a horse right about now."

_A horse__? _

Maka looks to Tubaki, apprehension flashing across her face.

"It's just an expression." Tsubaki whispers. "We don't really eat horse."

Maka breathed a small sigh of relief.

Westerners had the oddest sayings.

"Why don't you take the plow into the barn before we eat. A man honors his tools with good care, and they take care of him right back," Soul assured as he tried in vain to scrape the mud off his boots onto the wooden fence post.

Maka complied without question, choosing to keep her head down. There was no way she was going to ruin his rare good mood.

After unhitching the plow and putting the mare up for the evening Maka tracked back to the house, her bones weary and feet heavy.

Tsubaki met her at the back door. "Sorry hun, you're not stepping foot in here till you wash some of that dirt off. Roll up the sleeves and get your hands and face. Leave your boots on the porch after you rince them too, they'll be dry by the morning."

Tsubaki pointed toward the pump across the yard with a smile. "I put a cake of soap there for you. Duck your head and shampoo that messy hair or yours, it's more brown than blonde now. Here's a towel."

Mortified, Maka accepted the towel.

No one had ever found her hygiene lacking.

She couldn't blame Tsubaki for not letting her in the house though. She smelled awful. She felt sticky, and her hair felt itchy. She was plastered head to toe with mud and gunk.

Maka would give almost anything for a nice, long bath. Resolving not to complain, she headed for the water pump.

The water was astonishingly cold, but the chilly cascade felt wonderful on the scrapes and cuts on her palms.

Her hands grew muddy before enough dirt was washed off to even let her see the flesh beneath.

She knew her face probably wasn't much better, so she cupped one hand and repeatedly splashed and rubbed at her cheeks and chin.

Her hand even slipped back to get the nape of her neck. The cool water felt especially good there.

Her teeth chattered as she rinsed her arms, but the frigid water brought slight relief to her aching muscles.

She tipped her head underneath the spigot and scrubbed at her hair with one hand and pumped the handle with the other. She lathered the fresh smelling soap in her hair and had almost finished washing out the last of the suds when a low timbre spoke behind her.

"Scoot over kid, and stop hogging that soap."

Maka jerked up so swiftly she hit her head on the spigot.

She peeked up at him from behind a curtain of damp hair, her face growing increasingly warm.

He chuckles as he regards her.

"You've got something on your face there kid."

Maka snorts, a very unlady sound. "No thanks to you Evans."

Maka exhaled sharply as she realises her mistake. She regrets it before the words have finished leaving her mouth.

A slow satisfied smile spreads across his face, like a wild barn cat with too much cream.

"What?" She asks, even though she knows the answer.

"Oh nothing... you've just never called my anything but "Mr." Evans."

Maka frowned at him as she wrung the last of the water from her hair.

This smug man was enjoying himself at her expense.

"A lot of people call me by my last name, I'd still prefer if you called me Soul or boss though."

Maka gives him a calculated look. "Maybe, that depends."

"On what kid?"

"Instead of kid, maybe you can start calling me by my given name?"

He pauses a moment, thumbs hooked in his blue jean pockets, as if seriously contemplating her request.

He flashes her a wicked smile though before answering.

"Not a chance in hell, kid."

Maka huffs and blows a wet strand of hair from her face.

_ Why was she not surprised?_

He smirks at her frustration as his hand hovers at his shirt collar.

He slips the first button off. Then slowly another and another.

"Wha, what are you doing?" Maka hisses.

"Washing up." He says simply. "You should probably peel that dirty shirt of yours off too, you'd feel a lot cleaner."

Maka gasped, "I will do no such thing! It would be undignified, and not to mention crude to show so much flesh."

Soul shot her a look as if she had gone barmy in the head.

_Maybe she had?_

He popped another button and his blue twil shirt parted open wider.

No, he was absolutely the crazy one here!

What reality was this where a cowboy undressed himself out in the open, before God and everyone else.

"So am I going to have to wrestle you out of that filthy shirt or what kid?"

Her traitorous body couldn't repress a rouge blush from creeping up her chest and spreading to her face. Even her ears felt warm.

"Are all Englishers this shy? You're acting like a woman clutching to her modesty."

Maka unintentionally gripped her shirt tighter, as if it would fly off her body any moment.

He was staring at her, and she felt bare before his crimson eyes.

Her shirt suddenly felt too thin, she felt too exposed.

"You're acting strange kid." He drawled. "What's the matter?"

_Quick, don't panic._

Maka scanned the area her brain racing to find an answer.

Men out here weren't very modest, she had leaned that quickly upon her arrival. She needed an excuse to stay covered up and a good one.

Her frantic gaze fell on Tsubaki who stood on the porch, sweeping off the mud she had carelessly tracked there earlier.

"I uh, don't want to be indecent in front of Tsubaki, a gentleman must respect a lady's sensibilities."

Soul looked over to where Tsubaki was, afond smile on his face.

"It's true,Tsubaki's probably seen more of us than a good woman ought to, but she don't pay us no mind. She's like our little sister around here."

Maka briefly wondered what Soul would think if he knew how smitten Black Star was with his "little sister".

"I can abide by your respect for women though. At least you have that quality already. We can skip that part of your training and work harder on other aspects now."

"How noble of you." Maka scoffed as she began to towl dry her short locks.

"Well, you might be shy, but I am not, this filthy thing is coming off."

Maka's heart stammered as her eyes were once again pulled to his exposed skin.

It feels as if something has lodged itself in her throat, and her mouth feels incredibly dry. Her eyes are riveted by his slender fingers as they lazily dance down his chest, one button at a time.

He shucks his shirt completely off and stretched his arms above his head in a languid gesture.

His skin looks like marble in the fading light of day, ivory and darkness in one. Beautiful yet somber.

He is an enigma of a man, and she can't take her eyes off of him.

Her heart is faltering, and shame floods her whole being.

_This is wrong. _

She finally looks away, abashed to her very core.

"I must be going now," she mumbles half heartedly as she backs away from the water pump.

"Give me a hand with the pump before you go?" He urges as he swipes the bar of soap from her trembling hand.

Maka looks heavenward, as if the sky will open and deliver her from the sheer embarrassment of the situation.

The dusty rose sky, that matches the color of her cheeks, unfortunately does not offer any salvation on her behalf.

Steeling her resolve she rolls her shoulders and takes hold of the water pump handle, determined to look everywhere but at him.

She drives the handle up and down, slowly drawing water from down in the earth.

She hears his long drawn out sigh of relief as he splashes his face with the cool water.

She grits her teeth as his groans increase in number and length, the muscles in her body reacting oddly to the sounds.

She tries to relax her white knuckled grip on the handle and keep a steady rhythm while pumping.

Her eyes, against her will, are compelled back to him. She can't help but be captivated by his male form.

She had never witnessed a man this naked before.

If one really thought about it though, curiosity wasn't a sin...

If anything this was a grand opportunity to study the opposite sex at her leisure, close up and uninhibited.

For scientific reasons only, of course.

Anything else would be considered lude.

So for reasons of science, and nothing more, she let her eyes roam freely, indulging if only for a moment her curiosity.

He was hunched forward dunking his head under the flowing water, scrubbing fiercely at his snowy white tresses.

His back was arched, every muscle taut, every ridge and hard plain something new for her to learn, to memorize and map out.

He really was fascinating, as far as male specimens were concerned.

Here and there littered across his back, the smooth milky white of his skin was disrupted by pink hard lines. Angry zigzags, long lashes, and puckered marks stood out brightly on his pale skin.

Scars, and lots of them.

Maka's breath caught at the sight. He must have heard her breathy exclamation, because his back suddenly became stiff and ridged.

He stood up, his whole body tense, like a loaded spring. His steady gaze slowly finding her surprised face.

"Don't ask." He said it angrily, his face guarded, as if she had wounded him. "And don't follow me!" He barked as he snatched up his filthy skirt.

He spun around swiftly and headed for the barn without another word, boots stomping little dirt clouds in his wake.

Maka was left alone, sodden, flushed, and confused.

Who exactly was Soul Evans?

What had he gone through?

And why did the sight of those scars make her heart ache so terribly?


	20. Foolish pride and cigarettes

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening. The seat across from her was empty, the void spanning to encompass the whole room.

There were no grumpy looks or snide remarks made tonight.

The absence of tension at the table felt strange. Nice, but strange. She had almost grown accustom to his cantankerous presence.

Maka ate more than she'd ever dared before, there was no sense in letting the man ruin the beautiful dinner Tsubaki had cooked.

"Hun, you're eating like a field hand." Tsubaki laughed lightly as she ladled more stew into her bowl. "Then again, Soul's making you into one, ain't he?"

"It certainly appears so." Maka set her spoon down, her appetite lurching at the sound of his name said aloud.

_ Why did the man have to be so obstinate?!_

He had stormed off, without a word of explanation, like she had done something unspeakable to him.

Other than surprise, she hadn't asked him a single thing about those scars. Admittedly, she was dying to ask, but she hadn't, and he was still angry.

Men were odd creatures indeed!

"What's eatin' at you?" Tsubaki asked gingerly, her eyes knowing. "Last I saw, you two were happier than to pigs in slop, laughing and joking. Now you're too quiet, and he's nowhere to be seen. Soul never misses a meal either. So what happened?"

Maka hung her head into her hands, suddenly feeling too tired to hold it high.

"I'm not sure... but I think I might have made a huge mistake. I think he hates me again."

Tsubaki patted her kindly on the back, encouraging her to continue.

"When we were washing, I happened to see his back, and all of the scars there. I didn't question him about them though."

"Oh, I see." Tsubaki hummed in understanding. "You didn't do anything wrong hun."

"Then why do I feel so bad? Why is he so angry with me?"

Tsubaki sighed heavily, as if what she was about to say hurt her as well.

"He's been through a lot in his young life and those scars are just a reminder of everything he's trying to forget. He's not angry at you hun, he's angry at himself. That boy, he hates himself more often than not."

Maka hesitates, her breath hitching before she speaks.

She shouldn't ask, its improper to pry into someone's private life, but she needs to know.

"What happened to him? To make him hate himself so much? It must have been horrible."

Tsubaki looks around the dining room before her voice drops to a hushed tone. "I shouldn't be telling you this, it's not my place, but I want you to know. I want you to understand him a little better."

Maka sighs heavily, but agrees.

Soon she would learn Soul's past, and although she was curious, somehow it felt wrong. It felt too intimate, to be sitting here, whispering about the man.

"I promise I won't breathe a word of it to anyone."

"Most everyone here already knows about his past, or at least what little Stein has told us. Soul refuses to talk about it. I know Black Star has tried to bring it up before, but Soul only becomes withdrawn or angry when pressed."

"So you don't know all of the details?"

"No, only Soul knows the whole story, and you can't get it out of him, but l will share what little I do know."

Maka leaned forward a little too eagerly, her chair making a horrible scraping sound on the wood floors.

Judging by Tsubaki's grim face, whatever story she was about to tell was not a pleasant one. Nonetheless Maka was ready to hear it. Maybe it would help her make peace with Soul and his ever changing moods.

Maka tried not to fidget as she waited, she could tell that Tsubaki was having trouble collecting her thoughts.

"First of all, you need to understand that this ranch is somewhat of a haven for downtrodden people. Stein is a little rough around the edges, but he has always opened up his home to the people who need it the most, the name Forsaken is more than just this ranch's name. Everyone here has a past that they would rather forget."

"Everyone?" Maka asked curiously, the faces of all the cow hands she had been slowly getting to know popping in her mind.

"Me, Soul, and Balck Star have been here the longest, but the others have slowly drifted in throught the years, each one seeking an escape. Heartache of any kind isn't easy to run from, but living here we all get a second chance. We're like a big family here, made up of misfits, orphans, and black sheep. We might have come from a troubled past, but together, we are working towards something better. We are finding our peace here." Tsubaki sighed and smiled softly, her eyes turning misty.

Maka return her smile, her heart feeling oddly lighter.

If the people here could overcome great odds and find happiness, then maybe she could too. This little family of cow hands was becoming more and more dear to her by the day.

"Out of all of us, I think this place has done the most good for Soul. He came to us more animal than child though." Tsubaki's voice wavered at the memory, and outside a gust if wind rattled the eaves.

Maka took her hand and squeezed it encouragingly.

"Stein travels a lot for business, and one day while riding up in the panhandle he came across a sleeping child, all alone, and lost in a sea of grass. There was no settlements or towns for hundreds of miles, so Stien stopped his horse out of curiosity. There was no reason for a child to be alone in the middle of nowhere."

"Maka gasped, horror and comprehension choking her.

"Soul."

It wasn't a question, but Tsubaki nodded.

"Before Stein could get a good look, the child woke up and lunged at him. He was covered from head to toe in blood and had a knife clutched in his little hand. Before Stein could blink or even defend himself Soul had stabbed him, right in the gut."

"Bloody hell." Maka breathed, her heart in her throat.

"Bloody and hell are the perfect words to describe the situation. Stein says Soul looked like a demon, white hair stained red, baring his fangs, and eyes the color of blood."

Maka held her breath, the image of a frighten child painted in blood flickering across her vision.

"Stein wrestled the thrashing child to the ground and unarmed him before he could escape. Without even thinking twice he tied up Soul's hands and tossed him onto his horse, not the least bit concerned about being stabbed. The fool. Only Stein would try to save someone who had tried to kill him."

Tsubaki chuckled at the memory.

"A few days later he came walking into the yard, holding his bloody stomach and grinning like a mad man and Soul hog tied and furious. You should have seen the two of them, they were a real mess. Soul had fought him every step of the way and Stein had sewed himself up with his boot laces. Soul was the most savage creature I had ever seen. He howled and growled like a wounded animal. I was young, only eight at the time, but I'll never forget the sight of him for as long as I live. He was naked from the waist up, his feet were bare, and he had black crow feathers tucked into his hair."

"Did he tell you what had happened to him?" Maka asked in awe, trying to picture the stern cowboy she knew today as a wild little boy.

"No, between the growls, teeth nashing, and gibberish he only spoke broken bits of english, and most of it was profanity. Other than that he spoke nothing but a language I didn't understand. He had actually bit Stein a few times on their journey back."

"Oh my, what in the world caused him to be so wild? How did he end up out in the middle of nowhere? Where did the blood come from?" Maka asked, trying to put the peices together.

Tsubaki shook her head sadly. "We may never know the whole story. What we do know is that he had been kidnapped and tortured."

"Tortured?" Maka whispered.

Her body began to tremble from deep within as she remembered the deep scars on Soul's back and the anger flashing behind his eyes.

"Who would do something so cruel to a small and defenseless child?"

"Comanche." Tsubaki breathed.

"What's Comanche?" Maka asked.

She had never heard that word before.

"Comanche is a particular tribe of Indians."

"Indians!?" Maka whisper yelled, her brain trying to grasp the ramifications.

"Yes, and they are one of the most dangerous and notorious tribes of them all. Their braves and dog warriors are even feared by other indian tribes. No one messes with the Comanche."

Thought after thought, each one more terrifying than the last, clamored inside Maka's head, beating behind her eyes, making her heart race and her hands suddenly go slick.

Its, true she had been sheltered most of her life by her overbearing Papa, and she knew that the world was sometimes a dangerous place full of injustices, but she never imagined that something like this could be possible.

Not a single one of her western books had prepared her for this harsh reality.

Indians had always seemed so far away to her, like mythic phantoms of the prairie.

She knew they could be dangerous, and should be avoided if possible, but her books had never mentioned such cruelty as torture.

"How awful." Maka whispered. It was all she knew to say.

_What else could one say?_

Tsubaki nodded, her face pale and pinched looking.

"He was so young... hurt and afraid. It took a very long time for him to come around to trusting us, and even now as an adult he doesn't easily trust people."

Maka sighed sadly. "He has scars that run much deep than skin."

"Yes hun he does, but the years he's lived her have slowly healed him, little by little."

A silent sob clawed up Maka's throat threatening to escape.

She wanted nothing more than to cry for that sad scared little boy wandering the prairie alone and bloodied.

But she wouldn't. Because that little boy was now a man, proud and stubborn. The last thing he would want was for her to cry for him.

And suddenly, she understood why he was so angry earlier.

She hadn't said anything, but that was the problem. She had looked at him, with judgment in her eyes.

Maka threw her arms around Tsubaki and buried her face into her shoulder.

"Thank you for telling me. I understand now."

Tsubaki patted her back gently. "I wanted you to know, not so you can treat him differently or pity him. I wanted you to know how strong a person he is, and what he has overcome in such a short time. Just remember on days like today when he's being irritable and a down right pain in the rear, that he's stil growing and healing."

Maka leaned out of Tsubaki's embrace and gave her a watery smile.

"Now why don't you head up stairs and get some rest hun? It's getting late and you've had a long day."

Maka wearily agreed and after one more quick hug, she trudged up to her room. Every bone in her body hurt as she made her way up the stairs and her feet felt impossibly heavy.

Her heart felt the heaviest though as she shut the door to her room. The hurt and anger she has witnessed on Soul's face kept replaying in her mind.

His deep crimson eyes, so hauntingly beautiful and sad.

There wasn't anything she could do about his past, there were no words of kindness that could erase so much pain.

And hugging him was absolutely out of the question!

Men didn't show their emotions the way women did.

Tomorrow was a new day though, and she was determined to make amends with him.

First thing in the morning she would set things right between them. Some how...

* * *

Out behind the barn, Soul leaned against a sturdy cottonwood.

From here he could look out across the land in all directions.

The night was cool, and the breezes whistled in the grass in great heaving signs.

From here he could just make out the sound of the nearby creek laping against the bank and smell the sweet perfume of the choak cherry trees blooming along the waters edge.

Here, at night, the world would grow so quiet that a man could get lost in the loneliness of it.

This tree was where he often came to think or be alone, and tonight he wanted nothing more than to be alone.

Here he could relax a little, out of sight from the house. Most importantly, away from a certain pair of inquisitive forest colored eyes.

It didn't help that the kid had the damndest green eyes he had ever seen.

They almost made him look like a girl.

He hated those eyes right now though, they had held nothing but pity and unasked questions in them.

It was enough to make him sick to his stomach.

The wind rose up unexpectedly, causing the cottonwoods and willows down near the creek to groan and toss their branches wildly, like sleeping giants waking from slumber.

Soul felt as if the wind was mocking him tonight, laughing at his pain as it passed through the branches and out into the endless night.

He loved this land with all his heart, no matter how big and lonely it seemed sometimes. Tonight, the sound of the wind did not comfort him. It tore at the empty spaces within him.

As suddenly as it had come though, the wind left, leaving the night deathly quiet again.

A twig snapped directly behind him, shattering the silence like a gunshot.

Soul pivoted, his hand going instinctively to the colt he constantly wore on his hip. Every nerve ending in his body danced, and he could already taste the sharp copper tang of blood.

Black Star's silhouette threw his hands up and his body stilled.

"Fuck boss, don't shoot me!"

Soul eased off the handle, the muscles in his body relaxing.

"Damn it Black Star, don't you know not to sneak up on a person? How have you even made it this long in life without getting shot?"

"Nothing but pure luck, I reckon." Black Star cackled as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. He pulled out a small pouch, and brought a freshly rolled cigarette up to his mouth.

"Want one boss?"

"Naw I"ll pass. I thought you quit smoking though?"

Black Star shrugged his wide shoulders. "I did, I guess I've just been a wee bit stressed though."

"What do you have to be stressed about?"

Black Star took his time fumbling in the dark for his book of matches, completely side stepping his question.

Soul wondered what his usually boisterous friend could be keeping unusually quiet about.

It wasn't in his nature to pry though. If anyone understood and respected privacy, it was him.

Black Star finally produced the matches, striking one against the sole of his boot to light it.

A single flame, red and unsteady filled a small space in an endless sea of night with wavering light.

The way the match stood out in the pitch black gave Soul an uneasy feeling.

_Why was he so unsettled tonight?_

Had the kid really gotten to him that bad? Or was it old memories trying to claw their way back into his head?

The shadows danced eerily across Black Star's face before the match went out and they were plunged back into darkness. There was no moon tonight, and far away a coyote yipped a sad solitary song.

The lone ember from Black Stars's freshly lit cigarette did nothing to brighten his mood or their surroundings.

Black Star took a long drag of his cigarette and sighed.

"So what's eatin at you boss? You seem extra broody tonight."

Soul sighed, a long suffering sound.

"I just came out here to be alone."

He gave Black Star a pointed look. "Until you came barging up."

Black Star grinned, the light of his cigarette making his features look long and taunt.

"You don't have to admit it, but I know it's English who's got you all riled up."

Soul gave a mirthless laugh. It sounded hollow in the night air.

"How'd you guess?"

"I see things." Black Star gave a mighty shrug of his shoulders. "I know how you are around the kid. He rubs you the wrong way boss, like a cat and dog, fighting in a gunny sack."

Soul snorted and ran his fingers threw his still damp hair. He could feel the wet strands sticking up in all dirrections.

_ Where the hell had his hat gone? _

He had probably left it at the water pump after storming off.

Soul slumped against the white bark of the tree, his anger still palpable under the surface.

"I just don't know how to handle that fancy pants kid. One minute I feel like I'm making head way, the next I feel like I'm stuck in three inches of mud."

Black Star blows a cloud of smoke into the moonless night air, his face upturned in thought.

"Have you tried talking to the kid?"

Soul scowled at his friend. "Of course, I feel that's all I ever do is talk."

"No, you bonehead. I don't mean talk at him, I mean sit your ass down and talk with him. Have you stopped talking long enough to hear what the kid has to say?"

Soul folded his arms across his chest and exhaled sharply.

He hated to admit it, but Black Star had hit the mark on its head.

He truly was bad at this whole talking thing.

He'd spent too much time around cows and cowboys, both often lacking in social graces.

He more than likely needed some guidance on conversations, but was too stubborn to say it out loud.

"I really like the kid, and the more I get to know him, the better it gets. Ya know, I ate lunch with the kid today and spent a good deal of it talking with him, he's actually pretty interesting."

Soul gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Black Star, I know we're friends and all, but you can't tell your boss about long lunches and goofing off all day. It puts me in a tough spot."

Black Star rolled his eyes.

"You're missing the point here boss, you have to put in the time with English, otherwise he will always be a stranger."

Soul hung his head, exhaling a defeated grunt.

Black Star smiled.

"Besides boss, I think you'd like him a lot once you got to know him. He's pretty smart for a young buck."

Soul nodded begrudgingly.

The kid was ignorant in a lot of ways, but he couldn't deny how sharp he was either. He recognized that spark in the kids eyes, that thirst for learning.

"You know he rigged up that plow to make up for his scrawny body? You should have seen him boss, plowing up that field like his life depended on it. He's small, but he makes up for it in gumption. I reckon he's hurting something fierce though."

Soul thought back to his earlier encounter with the kid.

The kid had stood with his back ramrod straight, like someone had drove a pole up his spine, his English airs as upity as ever.

His small round face had looked pinched and a little more paler than usual though, and he had clearly been trying not to limp.

Soul had been so nettled and full of bitterness that he had overlooked the fact that the kid was in pain.

Anger had a way of doing that though, sometimes it made you blind to everything else.

Fancy pants had no right to judge him or worse yet, feel sorry for him. He hated when people looked at him and gawked at his oddities, but he hated when people looked away or refused to make eye contact the most.

_Had the kid been repulsed? Had he pitied him? _

Whatever had crossed the kids mind was no longer relevant. He would never know, he had bolted before the kid could speak.

Soul still felt irked at the kid, but more than anything he felt the sting of his own pride being trampled on.

It really wasn't the kid's fault. He had failed to keep his emotions in check, and now he felt like an ass.

Somewhere in the distance, an owl cried out in the still night, a high piercing sound, the call of a predator.

Black Star took one last puff of his smelly cigarette and snuffed it out, the night creeping in a little closer as the flame was extinguished.

"Well boss, I'm heading off to the bunkhouse. I've got a date with a deck of cards tonight."

Soul huffed a loud exaggerated sound.

"You know I don't like you guys gambling, especially in front of Tad. He's mighty impressionable at his age, and he's already growing up wild enough."

Black Star paused, and put his hand over his heart.

"Boss you wound me. You know we just play for fun. There's no place for gambling in our bunkhouse."

Soul pushed off of the cottonwood tree and suppressed the urge to scoff.

"Lying isn't your strong suit Amigo."

"I know!" Black Star whined. "That's why I'm so bad at playing cards, I can't bluff to save my life."

Soul laughed and gave his friend a good natured slap on the back before departing.

The night wasn't getting any younger so Soul quickened his strides toward the house. He was starving and a little pissed still, but talking to Black Star had helped.

A single light burned in the highest window of the house, warm and inviting. The kid was still awake.

He didn't know why, but he felt drawn to that small light that seemed to chased away the ever encroaching darkness.

He didn't know what he was going to say yet, but he needed to speak with the kid, even if it meant ignoring his own foolish pride.


	21. The Thompsons

Maka decided that bed must be a foretaste of heaven.

After extinguishing the oil lamp she hurried to remove her bare feet from the cold floor. Getting into bed proved to be an exercise in pain, but she succeeded.

Just as her eyes began to flutter shut there was a heavy knock on her door.

"Yes?"

"Kid," Soul said as he carelessly flung the door open, "We need to talk."

"Can it not wait til morning?" Maka moaned as she swung her legs out of bed and her toes touched ice cold wood.

"No can do, it's important."

Maka could just make out his form as he stumbled into her room.

"Christ Kid, why's it so dark in here?"

"Perhaps because normal people are sleeping at this hour?" She grumbled as she fumbled in the dark for the oil lamp.

Her hand closed around the lamp, and his hand clamped over hers. Maka jerked her head up in surprise, her eyes trying to read his face in the dark.

"Sorry kid, I can't see a damned thing in here."

His hand left hers swiftly, but she could feel the lingering imprint of his palm on her hand, singeing her skin as if she'd held it too close to the cookstove on a cold winter's morning.

"Almost got it," she said as her shakey hand struck a match.

Light flooded the room and Souls face came into veiw, only a hair's breadth away.

The intensity of his gaze made her take a small step back.

"Does it hurt?" He murmured, his breath fanning her face.

"What?" Maka stammered, trying not to show how distressed she had become by his close proximity.

"Your body, does it hurt?"

Maka's face felt hotter than a July afternoon.

He stood intimately next to her, in the middle of the night, inquiring about her body. The complete brashness of this cowboy would never cease to amaze her!

She turned her head to hide her burning cheeks.

"My body if fine, Mr. Evans. I assure you, there's no need for alarm."

He scrutinized her, his unwavering eyes burning a path across her small frame.

If she didn't die from embarrassment, it would surely be indecency.

"Here, I brought you some liniment. It's for sore muscles."

He held out his hand, a small glass jar with brownish liquid cradled in his palm.

"I um, wanted to say. About earlier, that is..." His face turned sheepish, and his broad shoulders hunched forward.

Maka was being to understand, why he was here in her room in the dead of night and stumbling over his words. He was trying, in his own way, to apologize for earlier.

She could tell it was hard for him to say it, to form the correct words. Probably because the stubborn man never apologized for anything in his whole life.

If this was as good an apology as she was going to get though, she would accept it and meet him half way.

Maka smiled brightly up at him and took the jar from his hands.

"Thank you."

He nodded, the muscles in his neck jumping as he slowly swallowed.

A silent understanding passed between them then, neither needing to speak it outloud and tarnish the moment. The jar was a peace offering of sorts, and his whole body relaxed as she opened the lid. She took a delicate whiff of the contents before gagging on the strong scent.

"It smells bloody awful!"

Soul cracks a smile, "Well the horses never complain about it."

"Horses?"

He shrugs, "It says it's good for folks, too. Can't say as I've ever tried it, personally."

"You want to put horse liniment on me?" She laughs in disbelief. "You're worse than the quacks and charlatans in London!"

He snorts at that, "Stop complaining and take your shirt off, I'll slap some of this on your shoulders and you'll be right as rain by tomorrow."

Maka pressed a hand to her throat, clutching the white linen of her bed shirt.

There was no way she was going to take off her shirt in front of him.

His eyes widened, then narrowed. They were trained on her chest. Stepping closer, he continued to stare. Maka cringed back even more.

"What are you doing with those?" He asked pointing at her chest.

Cold dread surged through her.

Maka glanced downward and prayed that her breasts weren't poking out too far.

Soul's hand shot out and batted at the silver chain she wore. His rough fingers slid down the sensitive skin at her throat as he examined it closer.

Maka's skin tingled and she suppressed a bone aching shiver. She didn't know if it was from relief, or something else entirely.

"Why would you be wearing a heart shaped locket and a wedding ring around your neck?"

Her chin jutted forward, her mouth set in a stubborn line. "They belonged to my mother and Father. It's all I have left of them."

"Kid, I suggest you take them off your scrawny neck and put them in a drawer someplace else."

"Why Evans? Do you have a bloody problem with me wearing them? Can you not make a man out of me if I'm wearing such delicate things?"

Her voice was mocking, but she feared his answer.

He stared at her for a long moment before sighing, "I'm not heartless ya know. I was more concerned with keeping it safe. It seems like it's super important to you. Working on the ranch it's very likely you'd lose or damage it. I meant no offense kid."

"Oh, I see." She stammered, feeling suddenly very foolish. She pulled the chain off over her head and laid it onto the bedside table. She felt naked not wearing it.

"I apologize for jumping to the wrong conclusions."

Soul's mouth quirked, and he nodded.

"I guess I can understand. I'm all for making you into a proper man, but a little bit of sentimental jewelry isn't going to make much of a difference. You learn quick though, it won't be long before you walk, talk, and work like a man."

His face became suddenly very solemn and he leaned in closely and whispered, "I'm more worried about you in other aspects."

"Like what?" Maka asked, feeling goose flesh run down body. He was so terribly close.

"You still walk like a girl."

Freezing on the spot, Maka kept her gaze trained straight ahead and gritted, "Then get me the holster and gun like you said you would."

"I will in another day or two, until then though, you gotta use your legs when you walk. Your hips swish back and forth too much." He reached around and gave her a friendly slap on the rear.

He jumped back laughing, ignoring her splutters and her tiny fist that swung out at his face.

Maka was a peaceful person by nature, but at this moment she had never wanted to physically hurt someone as baldly as she did this cowboy.

She glared at him, silently outraged.

She was appalled at his brazen act, and she knew somewhere beyond the grave her papa was having another heart attack.

"You are probably the easiest person in the world to tease kid." Soul chuckled as he took a defensive step back. "You make it too easy."

Maka's fist curled around the jar of liniment, willing it not to shake.

"You are a deplorable cowboy."

Soul turned on his heels, a devil's grin playing across his face.

"I know. If you change your mind on needing help applying that ointment, I'm right down the hall."

"Not on your life!" Maka burst out at his retreating back.

He shut the door behind him, still laughing as he went.

This indignity was beyond all expectation.

Maka groaned and flopped backwards onto her bed. The man had drained the last of her energy.

She turned her head and looked at the jar stil clutched in her hand, a slow smile spreading.

At least they were on speaking terms again.

* * *

The next morning, Soul woke her up at the crack of dawn.

With the help of Black Star and Justin they loaded up the borrowed plow onto the wagon bed and hitched the grey mare up. Soul took up the reins and Maka climbed up next to him, settling in for the long ride. They rolled out of the yard, wagon wheels creaking and the harness jangling in a quiet rhythm.

Maka scrubbed at her eyes, the lack of sleep from last night looming heavy on her lids.

They sat in comfortable silence as the wagon cut a path through the vast prairie grass. The smell of spring hung heavy in the air as the wheels churned over red clover and green buffalo grass.

Soul inhaled deeply, the coners of his mouth rising in a half smile.

"The air here tastes better than whiskey in your belly."

Maka breathed deep, the air was heady with the smell of sage and sun-ripe grass.

A whole hour passed before a small white washed house and a shotgun milled barn came into view. The buildings looked so out of place standing alone in the vast emptiness known as Texas.

Soul stopped the wagon in front of the barn and they both hopped down. It was quiet here, too quiet. Maka vaguely wondered where the residents were.

Soul cleared his throat before speaking. "I'll take care of the plow, you head inside and thank our neighbors for letting us borrow it."

"Don't you you require help getting it down?" Maka asked, wondering what his game was.

Now that she thought about it, he looked a little sweaty and on edge.

"No, uh no, I can handle the plow. You just go see the Thompsons."

Justin and Black Star's words from the day before came back to Maka in full clarity.

_"They're more like bears. Or vultures."_

Surely Soul wasn't nervous over two young girls was he? But as she watched him fidget with some rope on the horse's harness and curse under his breath she began to reconsider.

Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, Maka walked toward the little log house only a stone throw away. The Thompsons, no matter what kind of woman they were, would not swade her courage today. She had traveled the ocean, put on mens clothing, and braved a new land. This would be easy.

As Maka neared the house the screen door burst open, rocking on its hinges and scraping against the hewn timber wall. Out piled two of the oddest women she had ever seen. One stood so tall, Maka could have easily mistook her as a man, the whirling violet hingham dress she wore almost overlooked. The second was more girl than woman. She was tiny and pale, with big saucer eyes. She reminded Maka of the porcelain doll she played with as a little girl in England.

Both women locked eyes with Maka before they exploded into a chaotic whirlwind of lace and petticoats.

"So you must be Maka Albarn," the oldest girl cooed as she claimed Maka's right arm.

"Lord Maka Albarn right?" The youngest corrected as she clung firmly to Maka's left arm.

"You are the talk of the town Lord Albarn and you must come in and sit with us." The oldest one demanded as she leaned more of her heaving bosom into Maka's arm.

"Oh I wouldn't dream of imposing on you lovely ladies." Maka stammered as she looked wildly around. Had he gone into the barn, or simply vanished into thin air Maka couldn't be certain, but Soul was nowhere to be found. The traitor had abandoned her.

"We insist that you come inside and drink tea with us." The youngest one giggled as they both forcefully began to drag Maka toward the house.

Just before the girls pulled her all the way through the doorway Maka caught a glimps of laughing red eyes. He was peeking around the corner of the barn, tossing her a fiendish smile.

"Traitor," she mouthed silently before he slipped from her view.

* * *

The Thompsons girls, who she soon learned was Liz and Patty, had not been hard to figure out. The term bears and vultures the men had used to describe the two had suddenly made perfect sense.

They were ravenous, but not for food. They were husband hungry.

Maka had seen it before, being reared among London's elite where the girls were very aware of the marriage market. They knew the pedigree of every single male and could even closely approximate his wealth. Within a few minutes of dancing with a man, the debutantes were even able to guess, within a shilling, just what the man's waistcoat cost.

Thirty minutes of chatting with the Thompsons it became exceedingly clear that the two sisters would have handled themselves admirably in London.

Each girl wore her best dress. Ribbons perched atop hair that had been subjected to no doubt hours of prep. Liz, the eldest of the two wore suspiciously pink cheeks and lips and smelled lightly of some unknow perfume. They both sat so close to Maka on the settee that their shoes touched her worn and too big boots.

Maka knew she needed to leave soon, no doubt Soul was getting restless waiting outside for her. Faced with enduring the advances of the Thompson gaggle or returning to Forsaken and being put back to hard work, Maka chose the former.

It wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer...

Despite herself, Maka was enjoying the girls company. They were simpering and clingy, but also very intelligent and unwittingly honest.

Soul could wait a little longer, the brute.

The only reason he had brought her along on this trip was to offer her as a sacrifice in his stead.

So Maka turned on her upper-crust British accent, employed every flattering line she'd ever heard come from a man's mouth, and happily let herself sit in the parlor where she was fed a number of sticky, sweet items.

She silently wondered how she could diplomatically teach these creatures to brew a proper cup of tea. The brown liquid in her cup looked like the bilge water on the ship she'd voyaged upon to come to the States, and it probably tasted similar, too.

Could no one in this county prepare a proper cup of tea?

Still, sipping it kept her from hauling rocks, so sip it she did. Slowly.

* * *

What the blazes was taking the kid so long?

He felt a little uneasy as he watched the quiet house.

Maybe the Thompsons had trussed the kid up like a Thanksgiving turkey and stuffed him in the closet. He wouldn't put it past the two.

Maybe it was guilt or maybe it was concern for the kids welfare, but Soul was just about to charge in for the rescue when the door swung open. The kid stepped off of the porch, bowing and smiling as the Thompsons girls giggled and blushed.

"Thank you for the lovely afternoon ladies, it was a pleasure to sit with two beautiful woman for a change. I will call upon you both again soon. Cheers!"

The kid waved one last time then turned grinned in his dirrection.

Soul couldn't help but be impressed as the kid literally swaggered to the wagon.

"You sly dog, you never told me you were good with girls," Soul scoffed as he slapped the kid on the back.

"No thanks to you," The kid scowled. "You really left me to the wolves there Evans.

"Well it looks like you handled yourself right as rain kid."

Soul laughed as the kid's frown deepened.

"Well not exactly..." the kid muttered under his breath. "I might have overstepped myself."

"How so?" Soul asked as he took up the reins and the wagon lurched forward.

"The girls told me that the nearby town is having a big founder's day party this Friday."

Soul nodded his head, wandering where the kid was going with this story.

"They said they didn't have dates for the event, so naturally being a gentleman I offered my services... and possibly yours as well?"

Soul's eyes went wide, and his jaw went slack. If there were any bugs in the vicinity they could have easily flown into his open mouth.

"Oh kid, please tell me you didn't?" He asked in a deadpan voice.

Maka grinned wide and gave him a slow wink.

"No, not really."

The kid was being cheeky with him.

With one big paw Soul shoved the kid off the buckboard, which wasn't hard to do since he weighed next to nothing. The kid hit the ground with a loud "oof" before rolling back onto his haunches.

Despite the rough landing the kid let out a peal of laughter, and regardless of his nature to be forever grumpy Soul couldn't help but smile in return.

Still laughing the kid jumped up and dusted his hands on his baggy britches and trotted after the still moving wagon.

"Don't be mad, you absolutely deserved that scare after you left me alone and defenseless with those girls."

Soul snorted at that. "I wouldn't call the way you handled those biddies defenceless. You had them practically eating out of you tiny, British hand."

"Are you jealous Evans? I could give you a few pointer with the ladies if you want?"

Soul gave him an incredulous look.

"Christ kid, don't ever give me a heart attack like that again. I'd rather eat my left foot than go on a date with one of those two."

Maka grinned up at him as she walked along beside the wagon.

"So are you going to let me back on?"

Soul shook his head and scoffed, "Nuh uh, you can walk home kid!"

* * *

Lord Ragnarok paced his study like a feral animal.

He wanted nothing more than to throw one of his chairs right out the window.

He had company coming any minute though, so with great restraint he would refrain, for now.

He instead pictured the face of lady Albarn and how wonderful it would feel to wrap his hands around her delicate neck and strangle the life from the impertinent woman.

He used the word _woman_ too lightly though, she was nothing more than a disobedient obstinate girl. His dark mood tonight was all due to her and the utter disrespect she had shown him.

He had waited, patiently he might add, for almost two months for her to finish grieving her father's death as tradition dictated he must. Yet she had still not bothered to come see him or return any of his letters.

He had been furious enough to drive by her estate and demand her apology, but she had not been there. In fact, no one had been there. No servants, no stable lads, no mistress Albarn. The whole place had looked abandoned for some time. That's when he began to let himself worry.

His prized wife to be was missing. As a person, he could care less about lady Albarn or her welfare, but after her father had foolishly signed the marriage contract, she had become his by law. And Lord Ragnarok always took care of his property.

Now she was missing, and it infuriated him to no ends that something of his could simply dissapear off the face of the earth. The disrespect was simply intolerable.

Desperate, he had hired a private detective, a man both highly recommended and equally discreet to look into it. Now only two weeks after hiring the man, the investor had arranged tonight's meeting. He had no doubt found some news about the girl, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered to come this late in the night.

Two taps sounded at the door before a short little man with a balding head and a full mustache entered the room. He removed his worn bowler hat and bowed deeply.

"What news have you? Do not keep me waiting." Lord Ragnarok barked, skipping formality entirely.

The man pushed his hat firmly back on his head and cleared his throat before speaking.

"It's not good."

"Is she dead then?"

The man looked startled, more from the lack of sympathy in his employers voice than the actual remark made.

"No sir, all of my leads indicate that she has booked passage out of the country."

Lord Ragnarok threw his head back and roared with spiteful laughter.

"Out of the country?" He sneered at the investigator. "How could she possibly afford passage? I've seized all her estates and holdings. I own everything that her simpleton father gambled away."

"I'm sure my leads are correct sir, she was last seen at the harbor, buying a one way ticket to America.

"America?"Lord Ragnarok growled.

So the bitch had run away had she? Well he would make her pay once he found her. And finder her he would. No one told Lord Ragnarok no.

He had already announced their wedding to the paper and started making arrangements, now without a bride he would be the laughingstock of London. He could not allow it.

"I don't care how you do it, I just want her brought back to me at once."

"The investor swallowed slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "It will take some time sir, America is a big place and we have no leads on where she went after departing the ship."

Lord Ragnarok slammed his fist on his desk, his teeth flashing menacingly. "Just get it done!"

"Yes sir, I'll be on my way sir. Before I leave though, I thought you might like to have this back, I had a feeling it belongs to you." The investigator removed a paper wrapped package from his coat and placed it cautiously on his desk before exiting.

As Lord Ragnarok removed the strings and the wrapping fell to the floor, his whole body began to hum.

Cradled in his shaking hand, heavy and made of solid gold, was his missing door knocker.

Without another word, he sent it crashing through the window.


End file.
